#i need to start tagging my personal posts again but eh

[parakeetpark]

It just occurred to me.... that I've enjoyed making videos edits of Phantom of The Paradise so much that....

When I watch another film and enjoy it.... I can use this power to make video edits of it too

[bg-brainrot]

The Thousandth Time (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Summary: Astarion and Rogue!Tav make love for the thousandth time. In a bathtub.

Tags: Smut, Slice of life, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, bathtub sex, sloppy sex, seriously just sickeningly sweet smut, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Domesticity is romantic, Hand Jobs, Blood Drinking

A/N: Some context-- I wanted to write soft, gender neutral smut. And by the gods is this soft. I tried to look at what it's like to love someone for so long. In my experience, when you've been with someone for so many years, you still find a lot of love in the little things. which I hope I hit? Anyway, enjoy!!

Word count: ~5.3k

The thousandth time you make love to Astarion, you don't know it's the thousandth time.

It's a day like any other, really.

After a long day at the guild, you've arrived home, a sigh on your lips, a furrow to your brow.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?"

You compose your expression and turn toward your lover. "Astarion," you start, a reflexive wistfulness to your tone. Gods are you glad to see him after a day like today. "Nothing is the matter. Nothing important anyway. Simply glad to be home."

Astarion gives you a look that says he doesn't quite believe you, but knows better than to pry too deeply into issues you'd rather not bring home. "Very well, darling. But you know I'm all pointy ears. Especially if Nine-Fingers has been difficult again."

"Ugh," you say, wincing in annoyance. "Do not say her name right now."

The vampire gives you a bright, toothy laugh. "That bad, eh?" You nod. He walks toward you, arms outstretched. "Mmm in that case, shall we call it an early night tonight?"

You dive into the comfort of his arms, holding him to you, inhaling his fresh, familiar scent. It feels like the day's troubles melt in his cold embrace, and the tension in your body finally relaxes. "That might be nice."

"Dinner first?" he asks, pulling away from you slightly.

You look into his warm crimson eyes, feel that same warmth reflected in your face. Of course, he’d check to see if your mortal needs have been met. "No need, I've eaten. How about you?"

Astarion brings a hand up to inspect your face, this way, then that. It’s as if he’s examining you for injury, not assessing if he can partake in a bit of your blood. "Mmm, you seem a tad tired, love."

"You know I'll manage. Besides, get my blood while it's still boiling with rage," you say, craning your neck for him in response.

"As delectable as that sounds,” he begins, letting go of your face, tracing his fingers along your neck. “I think a bath and bed ought to come first."

You want to argue the point, make sure he's fed to the best of your ability, but the yawn that escapes you is irrefutable. With nary another word, his hand is on the small of your back, guiding you toward the bath.

"Would you like to join me?" you ask him as you open the door. Your expression is calm, the question harboring no hidden intentions. Any other day, you may have raised an eyebrow at him suggestively, begun taking off your armor in a tease– but you're tired, simply not wanting to relinquish the feel of his arms around you.

"Certainly, if it keeps you from falling asleep in the tub…" he trails off, looking at you warily. He appears torn, somewhere between keeping you from drowning and keeping you from resting.

You give him a wry smile. “Imagine that. After felling all manner of beasts and men, finally succumbing to the tub.”

Astarion offers you a reluctant smile in return. “My love, I swear to every god above and below, if you die in any manner even remotely that ludicrous, I shall have to pretend not to know you at your funeral.”

“That’s fair,” you say, holding a hand out to him. “Best to make sure that doesn’t happen then, don’t you think?”

The man can’t argue with that, nor does he seem to want to. After an entire day away from each other, this closeness is exactly what the two of you crave. So he takes your offered hand, and follows you into the bathroom.

It has been years since you had added a tub big enough for the two of you in your house. While the two of you had accrued wealth enough for an entire bathhouse, you’d settled for a more modest setup. At least, modest in Astarion’s eyes.

The floor is made of the finest marble tiles, the walls of intricately laid and patterned brick. And in the center of the room, is the room’s main attraction: the enormous, magical tub. It’s long enough that you could comfortably lay down across the entire bottom, wide enough that you have to extend your arms to reach both sides. The outer edges are infused with enchantments to improve your bathing experience, and the tub itself is made of the highest quality crystal that gold can buy.

Once you enter the room, you activate the heat and water sigils along the basin’s edges and turn back to Astarion. “Would you mind grabbing some soaps from the shelf?”

He gives you a lopsided grin, eyes crinkling with amusement, but still moves to do as you ask. “Would you also like me to bathe you while I’m at it?”

“Oh, would you?” you ask half-joking. You begin to strip your armor off, piece by piece.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, picking out a few of his preferred scents from a shelf on the wall. He’s accumulated quite the collection now, enjoying mixing and matching as his nose guides him. “That could be arranged.”

You’re almost halfway through your armor when he returns, bottles of lemon, bergamot, and sage soaps in hand. “Ah, you know how much I love bergamot,” you say, smiling at it fondly, pausing halfway through undoing your leather straps.

“I know,” he says, placing them next to the tub before turning his attention fully to you. “I also know that you need help with that armor or we may be here all night.”

Holding your arms out wordlessly, Astarion starts to unbuckle each and every strap from the front of your padded armor. As he releases you from its confines, you take a deep, relieved breath and say, “Thank you, love.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he murmurs, leaving a long lingering touch along your now exposed collarbone. “While you strike quite the image in your armor, I think I much prefer you without.”

You laugh, feeling quite light in the now steaming room. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your mind is straying quite far from rest, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugs, beginning to tug at your undershirt and small clothes with each of his hands. “Merely stating fact, my darling.”

With a few smooth movements, he’s taken off the last of your clothing, exposing every inch of you to the warmth of the room and the heat of his gaze. He seems just about ready to bury his head in your neck, begin covering every piece of you in kisses, when you speak, “Excuse me, are you planning to enter the bath in your house clothes?”

Astarion looks down at his own garb, the comfortable satins and silks of a man who spent the day lounging at home. When faced with your words and, ugh, logic, he says with a sigh, “Would you do the honors?”

You need no more invitation before your hands are on his soft, flowing shirt, running along it appreciatively. “Is this new?”

“It is,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Do you like it?”

“It feels magnificent,” you respond, beginning to undo its buttons. “I may just have to steal it for myself one of these days.”

His lips purse at you. “You know, you could simply ask, darling.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you taunt, pulling up on the shirt's edges, tugging it up and off of him. Now, faced with the plane of his ivory chest, your fingers act on instinct. They trail down his shoulders, trace the line of his pectorals, drop down the center of his stomach to the waist of his pants.

Astarion gives you a low, approving noise before asking you wryly, “Now whose mind is straying?”

“Not mine,” you respond, pulling his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. “My hands are just so tired, I’m sure you understand.”

“Surely,” he responds, as he pulls each foot out of his pant legs. “How is the water?”

The bath is steaming by now, visibly fogging up the room, but still, you bend down to skim your hands along its surface. “Ah, it’s warm,” you say, gripping the edge with one hand. “Maybe too warm?”

“No such thing,” he responds, and one of his hands lands next to yours as he bends down to feel the water for himself. The man gives a happy hum before asking, “Shall we then?” Then his now-wet hand is smacking your butt, his head gesturing toward the waiting water. 

“Excuse you,” you say, indignantly, as you turn toward him. “I'm tired.” But you don't feel tired. Not after running your hands over his cold skin. Not after feeling the quick contact of his hand on your backside.

“Not to worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

As in, bathing or–? Luckily you don't have much more time to think about it before he’s lowering himself into the tub. Even with his quick movement, even with the water’s slight obscurity, you easily note that Astarion’s cock has stirred in interest.

Ah. While you hadn’t meant to illicit anything by inviting him… it’s certainly not unwelcome. It’s a good thing that your exhaustion is all but melting away under his loving touches.

Acutely aware of his sharp gaze on the length of your back, you turn to face away from him, grab the edge of the tub, and slowly enter its warmth. As was customary in your baths, he would start with your back, so you take a spot in front of him, leaving just enough room for him to settle behind you as he pleases.

Too much room clearly, as Astarion immediately scoots forward, extending his legs to each side of you. You feel his hardening length graze your backside as he does so and can’t help the smile that curves your lips.

"Astarion, dear,” you start, placing your hands on each of his knees under the water. “Are you certain you want to bathe me?"

“And why wouldn't I be?” He leans closer, planting a soft kiss along your spine.

You debate backing up into his groin to prove a point but instead shake your head. "No reason, I suppose."

He begins by lathering his hands in a mixture of soaps, carefully measured out by eye and feel. All the while, you sit before him, hands on each of his calves, thumbs repeatedly rubbing the ridge of his muscles. While he’d had a nice, calm day today, his calves are always so tight from sneaking about– and it’s the least you can do for the man that’s bathing you.

Then his hands get to work.

At first he drags both hands along your back, once, twice. Once he’s made sure that soap covers every inch of you, he starts massaging you, working the soap into your skin, kneading into your sore muscles.

Astarion knows your body so intimately and, after so many years of tending to each other, he rubs all of your tightest spots. His knuckles press deep into your neck. His fingers work around your upper back. His thumbs dig underneath the edges of your shoulder blades, working out the knots he knows lay beneath. And, by the gods, if you thought you’d been melting under his caresses before, now you’re practically a puddle.

You can’t help the noises that come out at the sensation of his nimble fingers at work. Your shoulders ache from a long day of sneaking, stabbing, and general tension of dealing with people– the relief is palpable in the way you relax into his touch, grip his legs, and release several breathy moans.

And with each moan, you can feel his cock growing firmer against you. After the first few, you can feel him shift closer with every noise he draws from you. Knowing your affect on him has always done something to stir the fire in you, and this time it has you shifting uncomfortably as heat blooms between your legs. The both of you spur the other’s building lust, all the while the fresh scent that Astarion’s concocted permeates the air.

Then, when it’s clear he’s done with your back, thoroughly satisfied with each gasping breath of pleasure, his hands drop from your shoulders. They tail down your back, playing along your spine. And, in an almost leisurely motion, they wrap around your torso, where they finally settle on your chest.

I don’t think this is a relaxing bath anymore, you think distantly. Yet you’re unable to resist leaning into his palms, arching into his touch.

Sensing your shuffles, Astarion curls further into your back, almost entirely flush to you now. His fingers feel their way to each of your nipples, first gently brushing against them, then thumbing over them each in turn. They respond eagerly, perking up under his delicate sweep.

“Astarion,” you begin, turning your head back to him slightly and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Your tone isn’t exactly admonishing– your voice comes out too quiet, desire muffling all other emotions.

His hands trail down your chest, past the surface of the bath water, settling on each of your thighs before he responds, voice low, lips inches away from your ear. “Making sure that every single centimeter of my beautiful darling is clean, of course.”

“Astarion, I thought you would be, ahh… taking care of me," you say, barely holding on to your trail of thought as his hands dip between your legs, brushing your sensitive core.

“I am taking care of you,” he whispers, finally closing the remaining distance between your back, his front. At the feel of his stiff cock pressing against your back, you give an involuntary gasp. He seems to enjoy your reaction, taking a moment to slowly grind the entire length of his hardened arousal along your backside once, before he settles between your cheeks. “Unless you’d rather leave all of this stress pent up, my dear?”

You’d been tired– been ready to bathe and head off to bed. But something about this man never fails to ignite the fire in your heart– or your loins. “I suppose not,” you murmur, releasing Astarion’s calf, running up his leg with your fingers, landing on his arm, gripping it closer to you.

“I knew you would see reason,” he says, taking your grip as guidance. His hand moves down to begin stroking your heat, building up steadily to the fast-paced rhythm he knows you like. In the water’s buoyant embrace, his actions feel a touch more fluid, his fingers more silken.

It has taken time experimenting together to reach this place– one of utmost security and intimate knowledge of each others’ bodies. But now that you’re here, you’ve found that Astarion’s agile fingers are obscenely precise in their movements. Like he knows exactly which pins to tumble to unlock your utmost excitement.

So you can't help the way you buck into his touch, nor the way the water sloshes around you both in response.

"Careful, love," he says, hand stilling. "We don't want to make a mess this time, do we?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the last time this had happened, how the floor had been practically flooded. You should agree with him, make sure that such an incident doesn't occur again. But the front of your mind is wholly occupied, thinking only of how he's stopped moving his hand, how being careful may mean that he takes it too gently. "Mmm, we managed to clean it up well enough," you respond, jerking your hips back, pressing against him with need.

Astarion's laughter rings upon the bathroom's stone walls, before it turns into a groan as you roll your hips once more. His voice is a bit huskier when he responds, "You know we’re going to regret it later.”

You smile back at him, satisfied with the noise you’ve elicited. “Sounds like a problem for later, doesn’t it?” Then your hand squeezes his arm, motioning it back down to your now throbbing arousal. “For now, what was that about releasing my stress?”

“Oh very well… in that case, let’s find where you ache most, shall we?” Astarion murmurs, dipping his head, placing a kiss on the base of your neck. “Here?” Your shoulder. “Or perhaps here?” Then his hand settles back between your legs, fingers touching you in a rather delicate caress. “Or maybe here?”

You hum a noise of approval as his . “Oh, there.”

His fingers close on your swollen sex, rubbing languidly as he whispers in your ear, “Mmm, darling. So much tension…” A bit more pressure. “I must simply…” A bit faster pace. “Massage it all away…”

If anything, his touches cause you to grasp at his legs harder, all of the muscles in your body responding in kind to his ministrations. Your back arches instinctively, earning an exquisite groan from Astarion. So when his next stroke causes you to clench, you lean into it, grinding your ass back into the full length of his erection, sliding easily in the water’s low friction.

His other hand finds its way to your hip, helping you match his pace as you continue to rock into him.

The two of you fall into a beautiful, raucous rhythm, each open and generous with your vocal pleasure, the water’s regular splashes punctuating each movement.

“Yes, yes, gods, Astarion.”

“My sweet, you’re the only divine thing here.”

Then your words begin to lose sense, your rhythm begins to falter, and it’s clear that you won’t last much longer under his caring fingers.

You also know that Astarion hasn’t been tended to nearly as well as you have.

So you move to turn toward him. With how his full length twitches against you in urgency, your own nimble fingers ought to return the favor.

Astarion stops you, placing his unoccupied hand back on your chest to hold you in place. "Ah ah ah. Love, I'm here to help you."

"You are helping,” you start, pushing back against his hand. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.” ‘This’ is obvious as the man clearly exercises every ounce of self control he has judging from the visible veins on his arm, the way his legs squeeze reflexively around you each time he strokes you.

He gives you a reluctant groan, one that does nothing to hide his desire. “Must you always be so selfless?” His hand doesn’t release your chest though, and he begins tracing delicate, wet circles around one of your nipples, as he murmurs, “Fine, just let me continue.”

Staying in place for him, you reach back with one hand to feel for his cock. It’s almost unreal how naturally you slot around him, the way your fingers circle around its girth. The entire length, inch-by-inch, the pattern of his veins, the sensitive lip of his head– they’re all intimately familiar to you now. As is finding just the right grip, the right pace.

When you start to pump him in earnest, Astarion can't help but shudder, his movements losing their steady, pulsing beat. In losing his pace, he takes on a new one– erratic, a bit fumbling, but utterly intoxicating.

You're both stoking each other’s fires in tandem, wildly offset in your desperation to touch each other more and more and more. 

The water feels almost cool compared to your heated core, to the sweet friction you're building together.

Astarion's face tilts into your back, grunting as he strains to right his tempo– his forehead presses against you, his cool exhale grazes your searing skin. His chilled touch is a reprieve in the sweltering fog of steam and heady lust. Hearing your sigh of relief, he seems all too willing to make more contact.

His lips crash onto your back roughly, and his fangs nick your skin. An involuntary shiver runs through your body as you imagine the pleasure his drinking evokes from you. As you imagine the man behind you lapping at your neck, moaning in satisfaction, flushed pink with your very blood–

"Take some blood,” you offer, breathless. Imagining would never be enough, you find yourself craving the real deal. So when you say your next word, it comes out more pleading than you intend, “Please."

“Whatever my dearest desires,” Astarion replies, voice low and rumbling. He removes the hand from your chest and places it on your shoulder, holding you in place as he places his lips at the crook of your neck. His nose rubs gently against your fleshly washed skin. “Mmm, you smell so good.”

Then his fangs pierce you.

When you first began your relationship, you hadn’t intended to enjoy his bites as much as you do, but after years and years of them, the pain hardly registers now. All you feel is close– So very close to the man you would gladly give your lifeblood to.

He draws a gulp, and you feel the blood course through you, into him.

Another drink, and heat builds in you as you feel his cock grow harder in your hand, his veins more prominent.

A third long pull of your blood, and you feel his fingers quicken at your aching arousal.

You jerk into his hand in reaction, trying to seek an outlet for your pleasure. Your mouth emits a whimper– you hadn’t been comfortable whimpering with Astarion at first, but after he drew one out of you, he couldn’t get enough.

He still can’t, and you feel his lips curl into a smile at your neck, his fingers move with more urgency.

All the while you continue stroking his length, fingers sloppy in your own hazy state. It doesn’t seem like you need your usual dexterity though, because Astarion is practically writhing with newfound reactivity. Drinking blood always leaves him especially sensitive.

One last shaky swallow and he removes his fangs from your neck. But not his mouth. His tongue begins lavishing your puncture wound furiously as he struggles to hold back his approaching peak.

With the way he haphazardly tilts his hips into you, it’s all too evident to you that he’s reaching his limit. He’s not afraid to tell you so either.

"My sweet," he all but moans into your ear. "I–I can't last much longer. May I?"

You know what he means, and you honestly can’t last much longer either– you’re positively light-headed from a mixture of bliss and blood loss. So you stop your movements, nod your addled head at him.

He removes his hands from your core and neck, reaching out to your legs. Pulling them out and apart, he shuffles behind you, moving impatiently.

Realizing he can’t do this alone, he gestures, motioning for you to put your legs up.

Still a bit dizzy, you carefully place each leg on either side of the tub’s edges, hooking yourself in place by the ankles. It feels a precarious balance, but you can hardly care when you’re this eager to have Astarion inside you.

Astarion seems just as eager, rubbing his length against your ass hungrily as you get into position.

Perched and ready for him, the man is quick to help once more– his hands grip your asscheeks and lift in a swift movement. You’re particularly buoyant in the water, and you rise higher than either of you had expected. Your hand instinctively reaches out, gripping the edge of the tub to brace yourself, and you hear Astarion give a deep chuckle from behind you.

Holding back your own almost giddy excitement, you try to compose yourself for him. Angling your hips up, you’re almost floating on the water for a moment as Astarion lines the tip of his cock with your entrance.

However, you’re instinctively clenching a second later when a pair of your lover’s fingers tease at your opening. You barely avoid clamping your legs back together at the sensation. 

Recovering from the tickling probe, you look back to see a lust-drunk fanged smile, lips smeared with red. "Astarion, please,” you mutter. “I can't balance like this all day."

"Come darling, I know you’re quite talented," he taunts, easily gliding his fingers back in, curling until you truly do begin to lose balance.

"Astarion," you breathe out, clutching the side of the tub even harder to stay afloat.

Then his fingers slip back out, replaced a moment later by the head of his cock. “No need to worry, I have a seat for you right here.”

His palms cup your backside, his fingers squeeze, as you lower your hips back down, taking in his entire, slick length effortlessly in the water.

“Now isn’t that better?” he asks, grabbing your hips with one hand, the other finding yours on the side of the tub for support.

“Mmm,” is all that you manage, as you adjust to the sudden fullness. You haven’t lain with anyone else in so long, it’s hard to remember a cock other than his. Still, you can’t help but feel like he settles in you just right. Especially when you both slot together neatly, you taking him to the hilt.

Astarion drops another kiss on your back. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. Now that you’re securely held in place by Astarion’s hips flush to yours, your legs hanging off the tub’s edges, you place your second hand back at your aching arousal. You begin to stroke yourself back into the same fervor Astarion had you in moments ago.

After a small, deliberate thrust of his hips, testing how you rise and fall in the water, Astarion starts moving against you. It’s slow at first, the water rippling out from you both in small waves. Then his hips rock back, only to drive back into you with sloshing force. 

“A–ahh!” Sweet hells, he knows exactly how to hit your most sensitive spot. You had already been so heated, but now, with your lover’s full, hardened length pressing into you? You feel dizzy with pleasure.

Years of lovemaking, and you’re still in awe of how well he knows your body. It’s more than his previous experiences culminating in some kind of skillful paramour. No, this was built through time, trial, error, effort.

So as this gorgeous man you call love bounces you up and down in his lap, you feel yourself coming undone. Your breaths come ragged as you ride his cock, water spilling out of the tub with each and every buck. Your fingers clench the tub, barely holding on as you feel your pleasure coil tighter and tighter.

Astarion places kiss after kiss down your back, and you hear him murmuring, "Gods you're perfect." A harder kiss. "You feel so good." Another thrust. "Each." A nip at your skin. "And every." A thrust. "Time." Another kiss. "I–I love you."

For your part, you’re finding entire sentences difficult. With the feel of him throbbing inside you, the way his lips feel along your back, each roll of his hips, you're truly only capable of a few phrases. "Astarion." A splashing bounce. "I love you–" A loll back of your head. "Oh hells–" A dip of your hips. "I love you too."

When your peak finally runs through you like a shockwave, when you clench around him in ecstasy, those very same words are still on your lips. "I l–love you."

He moans at the sudden tightness, the muscles that now hold him deep within you. "Darling," he breathes. "Oh love. I can't–"

Astarion means to say that he can't hold on much longer. He'd already been so close, holding back only to keep your pleasure going. So you reach down to his fingers on your hip, as best as you can while still hanging on for dear life, and squeeze his hand. A wordless affirmation, a plea to join you, as he always has.

And it’s that silent communication that has his fingers lacing through yours, his neck craning back, his hips stuttering.

When he comes, there's no pretense or performance. There hasn't been for many years. So when you look back at his face in a hazy fuzz of emotion, the expression you see is utterly unbridled.

It's a look of sheer pleasure– his perfectly pale skin flushed a light rosy color, his usually impeccable hair stuck to his face in a mixture of sweat and water. His eyes are shut, his mouth agape as he spills into you.

So enraptured are you by the mundane beauty of his climax, that you’ve strained too far from your precariously balanced position. Your foot unhooks from the tub’s slippery edge and you fall onto Astarion’s lap with a large splash as he finishes. You’re both left panting and wet in the wake of both your and the tub’s peaks.

Water drips down your face, all of the soap bottles have been knocked from the edge of the tub. The high you’d felt just moments ago feels doused in the stark reality of making love in a bathtub. 

However, when you feel Astarion’s breathy laughter on your back, feel his softening cock twitch with his last few thrusts, you know he’s still in fine spirits.

You stay together for a few moments as you both collect yourselves. Water is wiped from eyes, your second leg comes back into the tub, and several deep breaths are had. Once you’re relatively sorted, Astarion pulls himself out of you with a long, happy sigh.

The man falls back from you, sitting against the end of the tub in a tired flop. Then he’s patting the water in front of him, motioning you to join him in some post-coital cuddles.

You don’t need much more of an invitation.

Floating through the now much lower water, you stop just in front of him. Movements relaxed, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and scoot into his waiting embrace.

"So," you start, looking at the wasteland of water and strewn soap bottles around the tub. "Looks like we made a mess."

"I told you we would," he says, closing his arms around you, pulling you against his chest.

"I know," you say, leaning into him comfortably. Your body is truly exhausted now, but your mind is a buzz of joy. "It was worth it though."

He laughs into your shoulder, squeezes you tighter. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"Gods yes," you say, tilting your head into his silver hair. "Thank you."

"Oh my sweet, it was my utmost pleasure," he replies, and you can feel his smile on your skin.

You both lean back, grinning at each other like fools. The smiles stay, even when your lips meet in a soft, wet kiss.

You will need to clean the room, the tub, likely your bodies once again– but all you can truly feel right now is content. Enjoying Astarion’s gentle fingers as they trace a pattern onto your skin, the warm water all around you, you very nearly forget that today was merely a day like any other.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, it was messy and wet and silly– somehow, it was sweet, caring, and loving all the same.

The thousandth time you made love to Astarion, you didn't know it was the thousandth time.

Just as you hadn't known your tenth thousand kiss, nor your hundred thousandth 'I love you.' Were anyone to ask you about them, you might not even remember the days or events surrounding any of them.

What you do know is that each individual moment holds no less importance, that the affection shared between you doesn’t diminish with each recurrence.

You’re unable to quantify your love, nor would you want to. All you really want is Astarion– his soft lips, tender hands, and whispered words of love– until your dying breath.

[acewritesfics]

The Neighbour's Cat | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: from @rainydayteacups

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff overload. Soft Tommy. I guess you could say pre-war Tommy but I didn’t really mention it.

Word Count: 1,564

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

“Did you hear that?” Ada asks after a loud thud came from out in the backyard.   

“It might be the neighbour's cat,” Y/N replies. The grey tabby is often in her small backyard, making himself comfortable in one of her flowerpots as he slept. She no longer had flowers growing in the one he took a liking too. “He often comes into the yard.”  

She goes to pour herself another glass of the wine that Polly had swiped from the Garrison when she sees movement outside the window. Recognising the familiar hair cut she stands up from the table. "I'll be right back. I need to make sure the cat hasn't gotten into anything it shouldn't have."  

"But it's dark outside, what could it possibly get into?" Ada whines, lifting her glass to her lips.  

"You'd be surprised," Y/N mumbles and makes her way to the back door and slips outside, looking into the darkness of the night for a person sneaking around the back of her home. "Tommy?" she whispers loudly unsure if it was him, she'd seen.   

As Tommy moves in front of her, a hand clasped gently over her mouth as he holds a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet.   

"Come with me," he speaks barely above a whisper, the hand covering her mouth moving to take her hand in his and leads her away from the back yard and into the street.  

“Tommy, I can’t just leave,” she protests but makes no real effort to break away from him and go back inside. “Where are the others?”  

“Back at the Garrison,” he informs her. “And who says we can’t sneak off to spend the night before our wedding together?” 

“It’s tradition,” she sighs knowing the women currently in her kitchen will have her head once they realize she’s disappeared.  

“Fuck tradition,” he scoffs as he slows his walk now that their getting further from the house. “Since when have we been ones to follow tradition, eh?” 

“I guess you have a point,” she smiles. 

“We’ll start our own tradition,” he announces, his voice echoing through the empty street as he walks ahead of her lighting his cigarette and turning to face her while walking backwards. “Our future generations will spend the eve of their wedding together instead of apart because we did it first.” 

Not realizing he’s about to step off the curb, he stumbles backwards causing Y/N to gasp as scrambles forward to try stop him from falling. He steadies himself before he can topple backwards. “I’m fine, love.” 

She shakes her head with a chuckle as his hands reach for her hips and pulls her closer. “So, what do you say?” 

“I say, I’m the luckiest woman in all of England, maybe even the whole world,” she smiles. “Let’s make our own traditions.” 

He smiles, kissing her, before taking her hand again and leading her further from her home. 

Arriving at Charlie’s Yard, Tommy helps her through the gate and towards the stables. Y/N looks around apprehensively, unsure if they should be there. It's been a long time since they snuck into the yard of the man who's like an uncle to the Shelby siblings. Last time they did it, they'd been caught. Charlie had almost fired Tommy from his job as punishment, but Tommy promised never to do it again. Until now.  

"Tom, are we allowed to be here?" she questions him, even though she has a feeling she already knows the answer as they walk into the makeshift stable.  

"I cleared it with Charlie," he informs her, surprising her a little. 

"But Charlie's at the Garrison with the rest of the blokes," she says, realization hitting her. "He was in on this plan of yours." 

"He tried to talk me out of it," he tells her.  

"But of course, Tommy Shelby gets his way," she teases. 

"I convinced you to marry me, didn't I?" he asks, a smug smile on his pouted lips.  

"It didn't take much convincing," she smiles.  

"We first met here," he reminds her. "You were tending to one of the horses Curly was working with." 

"Moonlight," she smiles remembering the day well.  

She came to Birmingham two years ago to visit her cousin, Curly, and look for work, having been fired from her last job for no good reason. Curly talked to Charlie about hiring her, claiming he needed a hand with the horses. Charlie hired her after Curly gave him his word about Y/N being a hard worker and almost as good with horses as he was.  

She was three days into her job when she crossed paths with Tommy. She was grooming Moonlight, a black stallion with a diamond shaped patch of white on his forehead. Moonlight just so happened to be one of the horses Tommy saved from a man who was about to put the beautiful boy down, because he was sick, and he couldn't afford to get him well again. Curly had nursed him back to health within a few weeks. Y/N had bonded with him so much that Tommy couldn't bring himself to find him a new home, instead keeping him as a gift for the woman he had fallen so quickly in love with. 

Those few weeks curly was nursing Moonlight back to health, Tommy spent pursuing Y/N, unable to get her from his mind. It took a month before she gave in to his advances and they've been together ever since. And Moonlight is now in a stable on a farm a friend owns, living his life to the fullest. Y/N is out there almost daily attending to him and taking him for rides. Tommy can't wait for the day when he can move Moonlight into their own stables, on property they owned, with as many horses as his wife wants. 

"The first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you in my life," he tells her. "You looked so beautiful, covered in dirt and grime, humming that tune as you ran a brush through Moonlight's mane. He seemed so calm and at peace that I felt it within myself."  

"Oh, Tommy," she coos softly, feeling her heart erupt with all the love she has for him. The fluttering feeling like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was inside her chest. She steps towards him, placing her hand on his face as she looks at him lovingly, her thumb stroking his well-defined cheek.  

"I've felt it ever since that moment," he says, his voice softer. "You bring peace to my chaotic life. It's one of the many reasons why I love you." 

"I love you," is all she's able to say before she pulls him in for passionate kiss, expressing all the love she has for the man who turned her life upside down in the best kind of way.  

Y/N startles awake the next morning when a loud noise comes from outside. Placing her hand on Tommy's bare shoulder, she gently shakes him awake, hearing the rattling of gates being opened.  

"Tommy, we need to leave," she tells him barely above a whisper. 

Groaning, his eyes flutter open and connect with Y/N's eyes. He smiles and reaches behind her head to pull her in for a morning kiss. His other hand travels up her thigh, plays with the hem of his shirt she's wearing before slipping under it to grab her hip to pull her closer.  

"Enough of that you two," The sound of Charlie's voice causes them to part. "You best get out of here before they send a search party. Can't be late to your own wedding." 

He walks away before they could say anything. Standing up, Y/N quickly dresses into her clothes from the previous day as Tommy takes back his shirt and coat.  

"I'll walk you home," he tells her as they leave the stable. They thank Charlie who waves them off with a shake of his head and tells them he'll see them at the ceremony. Hurrying home, Y/N holds onto Tommy's hand tightly, bracing herself for the lecture she's about to encounter.  

Standing on her front doorstep, she turns to face Tommy with a small smile on her lips. "I'm about to get my head bitten off by your aunt and our sisters but last night is worth every second of it."  

"I agree, my love," he smiles also. "I liked that tradition far better." 

"This coming from the man that said a fuck you to traditions," she teases.  

"To traditions that aren't ours," he corrects her.  

"You better get going before Polly sees you," she chuckles and pulls him in for one more kiss before they become man and wife. "I love you." 

"I love you too," he says pulling away from her and stepping back on to the footpath. "Don't be late," he tells her. 

"I'll be the one in white just in case you can't find me," she laughs. 

"I'll always be able to find you," he smiles and turns around, starting his walk to Arthur's house.  

As soon as she opens the door and heads inside, she gulps seeing Polly standing there with her hands on her hips and an angry look on her face. "And where the hell have you been?" 

"The neighbor's cat needed to see me," she replies slipping past her to go to the bathroom. 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @forgottenpeakywriter - @star-ggirl - @iceman-kazansky - @alexxavicry - @galactict3a - @crispynutella - @il0vebeingdelulu - @nicole-19s-world - @yeppaweshallsee

Bold means your @ didn't come up when I tried to tag you. Sometimes your blog will be linked after posted but I don't think you get the notification. You'll have to let me know and I'll change it from bold to normal. Tags have been weird lately. Here's a post I found that could help: WHY OTHERS CAN'T TAG YOUR BLOG

[amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet]

Ok, I think I have this pivot done, but nothing is permanent so let's start somewhere and build the rest together! So, reintroducing:

The Expanding Hyrule Community Discord!

Much like the name Expanding Hyrule and Original Legends, all of this is very new. And open to feedback 110%. But, much like the fact that there is no name for this niche of the Zelda community, there's not a place either. So we need one so we can pick a name together!

A lot of the assets are temp reused stuff from my fic, MoaH, but the asset is also a guild symbol and what better way to start an adventure with adventurers than with a guild! Union metaphor, adventure tie in, it'll get changed, but until a name gets picked, the acronym would be "EH" which is not as enthusiastic as I'd like to be about this. So, what is the server now!

At the top, I want to mention that I am solo-modding this at the moment, so the scale of what the server can do will scale based on that and whenever I get a mod situation figured out. Which is why:

Server is 16+. For this particular brand of building community, I want to have a space open to new storytellers and established storytellers alike. I am however only one person and until I have more Discord savvy folks to help, I don't know that I have the energy to deal with very young folks.

To the meat of it: this server is, for the purposes of this post, what I'm currently calling "Original Legend" Zelda stories. These are stories that aren't based on any particular game, they would be their own games if they were ever adapted. If you tell stories in that niche or are interested in those kinds of stories, here's your place to help us pick a name for this community and support it!

If you write Original Legend fic or have an Original Legend comic, you can get your own subcategory set up on the server for boosting and promoting your Hyrule. A community of book clubs is the idea. All you gotta do is head to the Expanding Hyrule section of the server, give me some details on how you want to set up your subsection of the server, and there you go, a place to collect resources for your work maybe a little easier than shifting through a blog or hoping the tags don't break. Here's a few of mine on the server already as examples:

Continuing on that point, the events section is open for request. If you upload on a schedule or one off but you know the day, I'll get an event set up so folks can get reminders of your releases. Additionally, if you do streams for your art or art for creators in this space, will also happily add those into the events.

For folks that like reading Zelda fic & comics, yo! You get to help us build a new part of the community! This fandom has built niches before, like the Links Meet niche. Here's another one that we can set up together! And as creators in this space, we need your help because this genre has no central identity for us to organize behind. You get to help create that!

What are y'all waiting for? The pic is linked with the invite, here it is again (x), and it's on the pinned post for this blog.

(This post has external links, so reblogs help a ton!)

[jasntodds]

Caving In [Book 1 End]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 15,158

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon violence, blood, mentions of injuries (bruising, being shot with a tranquilizer), canon character death, fluff, mentions of torture, mentions of being brainwashed

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: Uh, hi!! It’s the last chapter of book 1 and I just wanna say a very big thank you to all of you who’ve been reading 😭 Your comments have literally kept me posting and have meant so much to me!! I really hope you guys like this chapter!! I will have chapter 1 of book 2 up in 2 weeks and then weekly after that!! lol There’s a longer author’s note at the end about this book and book 2!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

The women and you go back to the tower. Donna and Dawn explain what the man told them. They’re planning something, that’s more of the information they got from the guy they “spoke” to. So, the only option, at the moment is to wait and try to come up with a plan to storm CADMUS before they can execute their plan. But, you’ll still need more help because Donna, Dawn, and you don’t have nearly enough power or resources to get you all in and out of CADMUS alive, so you’re all back to waiting.

You spend a lot of the time in the training room throwing knives as you wait. Waiting has to be the worst part of this whole thing. The longer you wait, the more Gar is in danger. Donna and Dawn tried to reassure you that if CADMUS is planning something, that means Gar is at least alive. Sure, that’s good, of course it is but what are they doing to him while he’s alive? As someone who’s been tortured twice, you know that it’s a hell of a lot easier wanting to be dead than tortured. Gar is strong but it’s not fair. It shouldn’t have been him.

After a few hours, you take a break and head to the kitchen, hoping for an update from Donna and Dawn, but as you walk in, the elevator doors open revealing Jason. A rush of relief floods you as a warm smile splits your face with the sight of him. You waste no time in walking up to him just as he exits the elevator. Jason can’t help the smile that comes to his face as he sees you. He can’t even believe how much he’s missed you. It’s been a week. But, you wrap your arms around his neck and he feels warm again. The hollow feeling in his chest starts to fill with adoration as he wraps his arms around your waist. Jason Todd is not much of a hugger but he’d take a hug from you any day.

“Miss me?” Jason quips as you pull away, his eyes landing on the bruise on your cheek. It looks a lot worse in person.

“Eh, a little.” You shrug one of your shoulders, looking to the ground and back to him. “Thank you for coming, Jay.”

“Yeah,” Jason’s eyes look up and back to you. “You’d do the same for me, so would Gar.”

“You came.” Donna states as she comes around the hall, Dawn on her right.

“I’m here for Gar.” Jason’s tone switches and he’s, rightfully, still a little bitter about what happened.

“Thank you for coming, Jason.” Dawn offers him a kind smile and Jason just nods, looking back to you.

“Well, I’m gonna go fill him in.” You give the women a gentle smile. "Unless...there's an update?"

"No," Dawn shakes her head sadly. "You can fill him in."

You let out a sigh, nodding your head and chewing the inside of your cheek. You grab Jason's hand and tug him along with you, passing past the women, and head to the training room. Jason catches you still limping slightly and he figured the fight with CADMUS was bad but you clearly got hurt. He kind of gets why you were so insistent that night with Deathstroke. It’s different seeing each other injured at the hands of someone, now that you know each other.

You take a seat on the floor and Jason follows your lead, just as you both did that night just a few months before. You extend your legs in front of you while Jason extends his left leg, his right leg bent up and his foot planted on the floor. Both of your hands rest on the floor behind you.

It feels a little weird being back. The tower is feels empty, sure, but it’s kind of like it’s haunted. A cruel reminder of everything Jason isn’t, of everything he could have been but failed at being. It’s not reassuring or comforting or welcoming, but he looks at you, and he’s glad he came, if only for a night or two.

“Spill your guts.” Jason grins at you because of course, he remembers what he told you that night.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” Your eyes widen before your sad smile drops. “Well, CADMUS attacked and we did not stand a chance.” You let out a dry laugh. “Like, they just kept coming in. Gar transformed and uh, we were in the kitchen so I started grabbing knives, got a few of them.”

“Good.” Jason scoffs.

“Yeah, but uh, they shot me with a tranquilizer?” You roll your eyes. “I don’t really remember much. Just, Gar in front of me and not a tiger anymore. I woke up and they were gone. I called you, then Dick, then Kory. Then everyone else, but Donna was the only one that called back. She showed up a few hours later. Then she got a call from Rachel saying she was in danger or something so we went to this diner? Bruce showed up?”

“Why the fuck was Bruce there?”

“I have no fucking idea? He set it up, I guess? I have no idea. So, uh, Dick got himself arrested.”

Jason lets out a booming laugh. “No shit? Goody fucking toe-shoes Dicky Grayson got arrested?”

“Yep! So, Rachel wanted to rescue Dick first and I wanted to rescue Gar first.”

“Why the fuck would you rescue Dick? He put himself there.”

“That’s what me and Donna said!” You yell dramatically. “So, we argued about it and she made me really mad so I punched her in the face.”

Jason has a smile of disbelief crossing his lips. He would never hit Rachel outside of sparring, especially after she almost killed him but he’s surprised you did. He knows she must have really gotten under your skin if you’re the one throwing punches first. And, he is very curious what exactly Rachel could have said that finally got you to snap especially since you said you aren’t normally the one to throw punches.

“Over Gar and Dick?” Jason questions with the nod of his head.

“Well, I--no, like there was more to it. I don’t know. She was throwing shit in my face and I said she was a wounded puppy.” You start explaining, Jason unable to control his laughter. He knows it’s true but he would have killed to have seen the look on Rachel’s face. “So, she said that I was because I was mad about the stuff that happened with you and this was after she tried to tell me what I was going to do, save Dick and not Gar.” You roll your eyes as Jason’s laughter subsides and it clicks.

The last straw for you was a comment about him? He knows he means something to you because you’ve said it a thousand times and you make it so obvious, even Jason can’t miss it. But, he didn’t think you’d still be fighting over him when he’s not around. It means more to him than he’ll ever say.

“You punched her because she called you a wounded puppy?” Jason raises his brows.

“Well….” Your eyes look to the side and then up, as if to be in thought before you land back on Jason who has one of his devious smirks. “Yeah, I guess. Like, she was so…” You scrunch your nose as you shake your head. “She also implied I was self-absorbed.” Jason’s face scrunches and he swears you’re one of the least self-absorbed people he’s ever met. Has Rachel not met the rest of the Titans? “And then!” You say dramatically. “She kept going after I punched her. She said that Gar deserves better and that you left me and for 'Deathstroke’s daughter'." You mock the way Rachel said. “It was so fucking stupid.”

“That’s fucking shitty. Who the fuck does she think she is? She chose Dick over Gar but he deserves better than you? There’s no one better than you.” The comment leaves Jason’s lips so quickly he barely even catches he said it. You eye him carefully but choose to brush over the comment. It’s not right to dig into that right now.

“I mean, she has a point and I told her that.” You let out a laugh. “It’s true, I’m not delusional enough to think otherwise but, that’s not the point. It’s not her fucking business.” You shake your head. “And you left for your own reasons and it was shitty to say like you weren’t even there.” Your brows raise as your eyes go wide. “So, her and Kory went to break Dick out of prison, I guess and we came here to come up with a plan to save Gar, Conner, and Krypto. That’s what ya missed.”

“Shit, fuck Rachel. She's not even worth it.” Jason lets out a huff. He really did miss a lot. “You guys think of a plan?”

You shake your head. “Donna and Dawn have the blueprints to CADMUS but they haven’t figured out how we’re going to break in and then out without getting ourselves killed.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they have security up the ass.” Jason sighs. “Could Trojan Horse it.”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah? And how do you suggest we pull that off?”

“I have no fucking idea.” Jason laughs with you. “It’s better than nothing.” Jason leans forward slightly, extending his arm dramatically.

“Right, but we don’t wanna die tonight.” You shake your head. “I don’t know, we’ll figure it out though.” You suck in a breath.

You furrow your brows with the shake of your head and talking about Gar, the lack of plan, it’s making things a little too heavy. There’s the guilt of it all and the trauma still haunting the back of your head because of Jerry and Deathstroke. You feel like Gar might be going through worse right now and it’s a little much. You’ve had nothing to do for two days now besides think about it. You’re tired of thinking. And you’re tired of the guilt wrapping itself around your bones like barbed wire. A distraction would be nice right about now.

“Can we…talk about something else? Just been thinking about what they could be doing to Gar and it’s just…” You look at Jason and you don’t have to say it. He knows.

Jason’s worried about you. When Dick brought Rose back, you had a nightmare, that’s why you ended up in Gar’s room. You were weird, you said it was too much that brought everything back that you had went through. It made it all real again. Gar just got kidnapped and you’re worried he’s being tortured. Jason can only imagine the hell you’re putting yourself through because of it and the hell your own mind is putting you through bringing all of that shit back up again. So, he’s worried you’ll be the next one on the ledge.

“How’re you and Gar? Well, before this shit happened.” Jason asks, picking a topic he thinks might cheer you up. Maybe you’ll have a story, something fun that happened.

“Um…” You look down and back to him, shrugging a shoulder. That’s not what you want to talk about either but you’ll go along with it for now. “Like, we’re…friends.” You nod at him and Jason’s brows furrow.

He thought for sure one of you would say something to each other, especially with you being alone here. He expected Gar to say something, not necessarily you. But that does explain, kind of, the lucky comment from earlier.

“Did you pussy out of--”

“Shut up.” You groan. “No,” You shake your head, eyes narrowing at him. “I…I don’t know.” You chew the inside of your cheek and you don’t know how to explain you and Gar aren’t a thing because you chose Jason. That it’s him and it always has been. Jason just had this thing blow up with Rose and Gar is in trouble. Having some discussion about that, does not seem very fair. And Jason is watching you with a brow knitted inward, knowing something is going on. It can’t be that complicated of an answer. So, you pick a different direction that isn’t a lie, really. “I don’t think we’d work and I’m not gonna do that to him or me.”

“Why not?” Jason asks. “That you wouldn’t work?”

He’s confused. The two of you were fine, seemed like you might go for something when he left and now, nothing. It seems a little weird to him and he thinks you would work. Why wouldn’t you? And he hates that a part of him might even be relieved by it. It might be a little selfish, but it’s true.

“Gar is ya know, Gar. It’s like…nothing can ever keep him down. He’s always happy and kind and fun. Always and I am not those things, which is fine. It’s not me. But, because of that, even as friends, sometimes I feel a bit like a burden to him.”

It’s not a lie because it’s true. You know Gar isn’t making you feel like a burden, but you feel that way anyway. You’re really different and that’s fine and great, it’s one of the reasons you work as friends. He mellows you out. But, it is one of the reasons you know you like Jason more. On top of your feelings for Jason, it wouldn’t be fair to try and see where it goes with Gar if you’ll always feel like a burden to him. It’s not fair to either of you.

Jason shakes his head. “You’re not a burden.” His words are slow and he still has a look of confusion.

He still has no idea why that change happened in the last week and not...any other time before that. The only thing that happened in that time, aside from the attack, was the stuff with him and the other Titans. And maybe he’s actively convincing himself that is just a coincidence. 

“Yeah, but it feels that way because it feels like he’s sorted through all of his trauma and then I still have this shit I didn’t deal with. And I can’t…do that with him because he talks and that’s great, right? It works for him and it helps me but….I also sometimes can’t talk about it. You get it and I know you do. I’m reckless and despite what we learned from Deathstroke, I gotta feeling that’s not always gonna stop me from doing something insane later. It’s…I feel like he wants to fix me but not that it’s anything that he’s doing or saying or anything like that. It’s a me problem, not a Gar problem, like, maybe he thinks sorting out my shit will make me better in a way that I’m not meant to be. It happened and I think I’m permanently fucked up from it. I know he is not trying to fix me but I feel that way anyway. I don’t know, feel a bit like damaged goods.”

Jason gets it. His entire life he’s felt like damaged goods but he’s looking at you with a deep bruise you’re only wearing because you’d go to war for people you care about. That’s not someone who’s just damaged goods. And Jason swears he’ll do everything in his power to make sure you know that.

“You’re not damaged goods.” Jason states and he doesn’t have his signature smirk. “Going through that shit doesn’t make you damaged or some shit. You’re still you.”

“Mmm.” You hum and you gain this sad smile, dodging his eyes. “Yeah, but, uh, it-it, uh it feels like it anyway.”

“Not to me.” Jason shrugs and he said it on purpose. It doesn’t matter to him what you go through or that you’ll always be reckless, always looking for the next thrill because he’ll always do the same. You’re not damaged goods, not to him.

Your face softens and your stomach flips. That’s why it’s always been him. You don’t feel damaged with him. “That’s awfully nice of you, Jay.”

Jason gives you a cheeky grin. “I can be nice.”

You let out a laugh and you swear everything is a little bit better with him around. “Yeah, you can be.” You offer him a thankful smile. “Thanks for coming.”

“You and me.” Jason repeats what you normally say to him and you swear your heart is about to burst into flames.

“You and me.” You let out a sigh, looking down and then back to him. It’s enough about you. “Seriously, you okay about Rose? I know you really liked her.”

Jason knows Rose is going to be a sore spot for a little while. He just feels so betrayed. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve it or why she wouldn’t have just told him. Had she just told him, maybe he wouldn’t have been nearly as mad or upset about it. So, it sucks but he knows he’ll be fine. He has been with every other person that’s betrayed him and mistreated him. He’s used to it.

Jason nods. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Just fucking sucks. Got me feeling a bit like damaged goods.” Jason lets out a laugh, an almost teasing grin tugging at his lips before it falls. “Ya know, like, I tried really hard with her. Taking her out, showing her that school I told you about, acts of service type shit.” Jason’s eyes widen. “And she treated me like shit, pushing me away, lying to me, using me. Sleeping with me and knowing she was fucking lying the whole damn time.” Jason grits his teeth getting angry about it all over again. “Nothing I did was fucking good enough even when I tried.”

You were hoping you were wrong about Rose. Truly, you didn’t even dislike her until the day they left. It was a bad day for everyone but you were right and you wish so badly you weren’t. Jason doesn’t deserve any of that. He’s already gone through too much shit, especially over the last two weeks.

“You don’t deserve it. You put in a lot of effort, you trusted her. That shit, that’s on her. She gets to live with what she did to you. She doesn’t deserve you. She gets to live with the fact she’s the one that fucked it all up, not you. You deserve so much fucking better, Jay. It was enough, she just fucking sucks.” You let out a scoff before looking back to him. “And you’re not damaged goods.” You give him a kind smile. “Not to me.” Jason could never be damaged goods to you.

Jason chuckles softly, his cheeks starting to tint a faint shade of pink, his heart throbbing into his vocal cords. “Thanks.” Jason smiles softly at you and it should have been you he left with. “You’re good at that.”

Your brows furrow. “Good at what?”

“Knowing what to say.”

Your cheeks start to burn. “Just being honest with you.” You rub your eye, wincing from the pain.

Jason scoots closer to you, you keep your hands firmly on the ground, watching him with suspicion. Jason reaches forward, turning your head as he holds your chin to get a look at the bruise and your skin is on fire, tingling under his touch. Your heart is in your throat and your breath is caught right at the base of your throat. This is new. And Jason just wants to look at it, make sure your cheek isn’t broken. He’s been a hit a time or several there and it’s always unpleasant. And this bruise looks really deep, he tells himself he’s just making sure you’re actually okay. Physically. But it gets his blood warming with the idea another person caused it.

“What’d they hit you with?” Jason’s voice is lower this time, dropping his hand.

“Butt of a gun, fucking assholes.” You scoff, your voice on the verge of breathy as you try to ignore the fire in your stomach. “Shit hurt.”

Jason chuckles softly, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” He shakes his head. “Sure it’s not broke?”

You shrug. “I have no idea. Probably not, my face isn’t deformed or anything. Doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“Did you ice it?” Jason asks and you find it a little cute and very cute he’s asking about it.

“No,” You laugh and Jason groans. “I was icing my damn leg. That is the shit that hurts.”

“Yeah, what’s that about? You’re the one limping now.” Maybe he regrets leaving. Maybe he could have helped, in some way.

“That’s where I was shot with the tranquilizer.” You roll your eyes. “The bruise is like half the size of my thigh.”

Jason cringes at the thought of it. “Ouch.” Jason shakes his head. “You sure you’re alright?”

You smirk at him and he’s cute when he’s being protective. He should do it more often. “You trying to take care of me, Jay?” Maybe you’d let him if he offered. You take care of him.

Jason's cheeks shoot red as his eyes look to the ceiling and back to you, doing his best to ignore his heart in his ears. “Someone should.” Jason lets his words out sarcastically but of course he is. Always.

You suck on your teeth and you’re trying so hard not to give him the satisfaction of a genuine smile, but you can’t help it. You fucking missed him. “Yeah, same for you.” Your eyes widen at him as you rest your head on his knee. “I’m fine, thank you though. Honest, just hurts still. How’s your leg?”

“All good.” Jason smiles down at you and he swears that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Good.” Your smile is soft and Jason swears the ache in his chest from Rose doesn’t hurt so much with you.

Jason debates in his head. He’s not gonna say anything, that is for certain. He thought Rose wouldn’t be like that. Rose went through some really horrible shit, her own dad cut out her eye. Jason kind of thought because of that, she’d get him…kind of like you do. He wouldn’t feel less than or not good enough because she’d get it. But, she…treated him like everyone else but worse because he really, really let her in ways he doesn’t normally. And she screwed him over anyway. Everything with them was actually fine at the tower but they get away from it all, from the Titans and people, it’s just them and then…she keeps lying to him and using him. You are not Rose, but, there is a part of him that thinks maybe the same exact shit would happen because why wouldn’t it?

But, his mind wanders back to you kissing him anyway. Maybe it’s an easy distraction from worrying about Gar. But, he thinks about it and his reasoning of not wanting you to die for him and ruining you like he ruins everyone. And you’re looking at him with soft eyes he doesn’t think he deserves it because he left. Because he turned you down. Because he tries to pushes you away, even if he isn’t very good at it. And he debates if any of that was ever the right decision. So, he decides that testing the waters a little, will ease his mind.

“So,” He furrows his brows and dodges yoru eyes for a second. “You and Gar, just…not gonna be a thing?”

You smirk at him, picking your head up and he’s got that coy look he gets when he’s trying to play something off and failing miserably. “Why? Does that pique your interest, Jay?” You’re back to the asking game and that feels comfortable. There’s no pressure in it.

Jason shrugs one shoulder. “Nope.” He tries his best to wipe the grin from his face but he can’t help it.

“Mhm, okay. Whatever you say, birdboy.” You lick your lips. “Nah, not gonna be a thing.” You want to mess with him a little. You’ve missed that a lot. “Kind of into someone else anyway.” You scrunch your nose and Jason snaps his eyes at you, a devious look in his eyes.

“Yeah? And who's that?” There's a teasing smirk on his face while his tone is taunting, as if knowing you’re not going to tell him or that you’ll have some bullshit answer just to mess with him.

You shrug dramatically. “We should join the others.” You have an uncontrollable smirk on your lips and Jason is ready to burst.

“You’re not gonna fucking tell me? Just gonna leave me hanging?” Jason chuckles, his eyes wide.

“We don’t always get what we want, Jason Todd.” You let a laugh fall from your lungs and Jason swears it should have been you.

“Yeah? And what do you want?” Jason cocks his head to the right, taunting you.

A part of you almost blurts it right out, get it out in the open despite better judgment. A part of you almost blurts out to see the look on his face. He’ll get flustered and red will creep from his cheeks down to his neck. His muted forest green eyes will suddenly be a shade closer to the northern lights and you’ll have a good laugh and maybe you’ll get what you want. But, you can’t bring yourself to do it. He just had that with Rose and is still hurt by it. You both have Gar to worry about it and you think it might be shitty if you show up to rescue him and you’ve had this inevitable conversation. And what if he’s fucking with you? Like always. What if, despite everything, he still doesn’t want you? You want him, and you swear you probably always will, but what if he still doesn’t want you? That’s gonna hurt, too. So, you shake your head and decides you’ll tell him but not now. You do, however, decide to have a different conversation.

“Okay, seriously,” You drop the smile and Jason leans forward slightly. “Been thinking about it a little, between worrying about Gar and stuff, the Titans leaving and shit.” You start and Jason is hanging onto every word. He has no idea where this is going. “I wanna go home.”

Jason freezes, the conversation taking a turn. Home? “Like Gotham?” His brows shoot up and he’s not even sure why he’s surprised. You always call Gotham home.

You nod your head softly, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, uh, I haven’t said anything to anyone. But, yeah. I miss it and honestly, I think it’s just….I like it here and everything. It’s just…I would like to go back and kind of figure out myself. Dick rescued me and I’ll always appreciate that and never forget it. He gave me a shot here and that’s awesome but, I was thrown into this and I think I just…need to go back and find a part of myself again.”

“What do you mean?”

Between everything that’s happened, being here is a lot. At the end of the day, this is the city Jerry bought you to and kept you locked away, tortured you. This is the city that gave you powers you don’t even want. This is the tower that saw you paranoid, waking up screaming from nightmares. Burning Gar. This is the city where you were kidnapped and nearly murdered by Deathstroke. This is the tower that was supposed to be safe, but was attacked anyway. There is so much hidden in these walls, beyond just you that’s impacted everything. You like to run when things get hard and things are really fucking hard right now. You want to go home, a place that you know like the back of your hand. Gotham is always going to be Gotham, but it’s where you’ve always felt the most comfortable and…somehow, safest. And Gotham holds parts of you that are not here. You believe that home is where the heart is but you left part of your heart in Gotham and you want that back.

“I will never be who I was before. But I would like to find some of those parts again. My mom is buried in Gotham. I was…happy there though. Despite fucking everything, I was still happy. And…I…I don’t know.”

“Are you not happy here?”

“No, I am but…it’s different. It might just be the trauma.” You let out a scoff. “But, I was happier there and I just…want to go home. So fucking much,” Your breath is shaky as your brows furrow. “So fucking much has happened in this city and….honestly, I only stayed because I couldn’t abandon Gar. I couldn’t leave him alone and I thought not running, for once, would be good but….” You look to the ground before pulling your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs and then looking back to Jason. “More shit just happened and…” You let out a breath. “I’m tired, Jay.”

You look tired. You aren’t smirking or grinning at him. Your eyes are dull and you literally look tired and sad. Jason’s chest aches looking at you and he worries a little bit more about you. The ghosts that roam the tower, do more than affect the original Titans. They affect everyone who lives here, on top of their own ghosts that want to follow and taunt them. If anyone in this place deserves to be happy, it would be you.

“Where would you go?” Jason questions and he knows you’re impulsive but he's got a feeling this is something you’ve been thinking about over the last week.

You shrug. “Figure it out.” You let out a broken laugh. “Did before and CPS can’t do shit now, so.” You let out a deep breath, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands.

Jason would be lying if the thought of asking you to come to Gotham with him didn’t cross his mind when you said you and Gar were a no-go. It was less than a split second but he knew he’d never be able to ask. There’d be no way he’d put that on you, going back to the shitshow of Gotham. But, if you want to do it anyway…

Jason pulls his other leg to his chest, resting his forearms on his knees. “Okay, are you really wanting to do it? Like, no bullshit or whatever. You wanna go back to Gotham?”

You nod. “Mhm. Too heavy here right now.” You dodge your stare to Jason’s hands, catching a glimpse of faint bruising on his knuckles.

Jason gives you an understanding nod. “Want me to talk to Bruce?" The words flow from his mouth like a gentle river, easy and smooth.

Your heart stops in your chest as you snap your eyes to Jason’s. “What? Talk…to Bruce?”

Jason nods. “Not letting your ass go back to the streets. If you’re fucking serious about going back to Gotham, I can talk to Bruce. I know you don’t like him, but it’s a roof over your head, a warm bed, food. In Gotham.”

You adore him. That’s the only thing that’s running through your head. It’s running over and over and over, on loop like a broken record. You adore him for everything he is and everything he isn’t. Asking Bruce, is something you never thought he would do. That is his thing. More so than even reading seems to be because that’s where he’s Robin. But, he offers anyway.

And he offers because he’ll always take care of you. And keep you safe. No matter what.

“You’d really do that?”

“Hell yeah.” Jason gives you a grin, the beating of his heart stutters. “Be more fun if you were there anyway.” Jason shrugs.

“Thank you, Jay.” You smile softly. “I’d really like that.”

“I’ll talk to him, sure he’ll be fine with it. You know he likes strays.” Jason gives you a cheeky grin and you let out a laugh, looking down and then back to him. Jason is relieved you’re okay with it. Maybe even a little thrilled.

“Yeah, when are you gonna start plucking strays? Bruce then Dick, you’re next Batboy.” You point a finger at him and you think he might be good at it, better than Bruce and Dick.

Jason lets out a groan, tilting his head back. “That's the meanest shit you’ve ever said to me.”

Your laugh booms off the walls and Jason’s heart nearly melts through his ribs. “I think it’s probably their best quality!”

Jason’s never felt this before. Not exactly the heart thundering and stuttering or the clammy hands or cheeks aching from smiling too much. But, the comfort he feels with you. The ease of how the conversation moves between you, how it goes from serious to banter to serious, so easily. He’s never had that with anyone before. You’re both worried about your best friend but with each other, you find your own way to deal with it and handle it rather than training yourselves into the ground while waiting. Jason has never felt so comfortable in a place he does not feel welcomed and it’s because of you. He is so sure of that.

Just then, Donna walks in, gathering yours and Jason’s attention.

“Kory and Rachel are here, we’re gonna try to come up with a plan.” Donna states.

“No Dick?” You ask and Donna shakes her head, a look of annoyance on her face.

“Do not say anything.” Donna warns and Jason gains a grin before getting to his feet. “Either of you, please.”

“I won’t, just asking.” You defend while Jason extends a hand to you.

“I don’t have shit to say to her.” Jason lets out a scoff.

You grab his hand and get to your feet. The two of you follow Donna to the kitchen where Dawn and Kory are standing at the center counter and Rachel is seated on the same countertop. Jason and you head to the opposite side of Kory while Donna stands between you and Dawn.

“You’re back.” Rachel states with confusion as she looks at Jason.

“Was told you guys needed the help.” Jason deadpans and he also doesn’t want to deal with Rachel right now.

“Okay, well, we have news about Dick.” Kory states before Rachel can respond.

Rachel and Kory go off to explain that Dick wasn’t in his cell. He must have escaped with the other prisoners or something. Again, you sit there thinking about how you were right and Rachel was wrong about this. Dick could handle himself. He went off to wallow in his own self-pity and now he’s free. It’s like you thought would happen. But, you listen anyway as they get to the weirder stuff about Dick writing on his cell walls that Jericho is alive.

“Well, one thing’s for sure. He’s clearly lost his mind.” Donna says.

“But, I keep having these dreams about Dick being killed by Deathstroke.” Rachel says as she’s seated with her legs crossed on the counter. “And they’re going away. We need to do something about that.”

Jason shifts his weight to his left leg as he crosses his arms. You watch his jaw clench and you know he wants to say something so you move a little closer to him, your arm resting against his. When he looks at you with a quirked brow, you offer him a faint but calm smile. It’s not worth it. You have Gar to worry about not Rachel’s dreams and Dick escaping prison. He’ll be fine.

“I believe you.” Donna says. “But we have bigger problems right now.” Donna flips the case of the iPad open, showing blueprints of the CADMUS building.

“Okay, what’s the plan?” Rachel lets out a sigh and you bite your tongue.

Now that Rachel got to do what she wanted, now she’s on board with saving Gar. You can feel your blood wanting to boil. It’s just so ridiculous and it’s not even like you can say anything because you’ll just argue again and you’re tired of arguing and fighting. So, you bite your tongue and Jason catches you stiffen next to him. It’s his turn to give you a nudge and shake his head. You grin at him and jerk your head toward the women where you stand Donna and Dawn, furthest away from Rachel so you can still see what’s going on.

"Well, the main CADMUS building closes at 9 and security drops down to 10. There's two at each gate and then six roaming inside." Kory explains.

"Okay, what about the lab?" Donna asks as she zooms in.

"Whole different story." Dawn says. "It's a twenty-four-hour operation and in the last week, they've doubled up the guard. Four six-hour shifts, 10 bodies around the clock. Sounds like that's where the party's at."

"Okay, well, let's crash it." Donna says.

"Finally." You let out a sigh.

"It's about damn time." Jason lets out a scoff.

"Oh, so we're just gonna break in CADMUS and get Conner and Gar out of there. Just the six of us?!" Rachel questions.

"Do you have a better idea?" You quip, unable to hold your tongue.

"We don't have a choice right now, okay?" Donna states. "But, between you and Kory, we have plenty of firepower. At least to get us through the front door."

"About that, I've got some bad news." Kory says, gaining everyone's attention. "My powers have vanished."

"Yeah, that tracks." You mutter and it's just one thing after the other here.

"What do you mean?" Donna asks.

"I don't know. I don't know what happened. But they're gone and I haven't been able to get them back." Kory states, frustration in her voice.

"Well, that's fucking great." Donna sighs. "What about you?" Donna asks Rachel.

"Fully loaded but I can't promise that I....won't go a little bit overboard." Rachel rushes her words slightly. "Um, things have been getting a little...dramatic."

Donna looks to you. "How about you?"

"All good and ready to go." You offer her a thumbs-up.

Just then, there's an alert on the iPad. Everyone who can see the iPad starts reading.

"A disturbance at Golden Gate Park. Units responding." Kory reads out loud. "People are injured. Reports of a wild animal."

"Phase two." Rachel states, her voice uneasy. Donna had texted Kory with updates on what they found out from the CADMUS guy and their lack of plan. "It's already begun."

The room falls silent for just a few seconds before everyone starts moving. Jason, Donna, and Dawn grab their suits, you grab a backpack and a change of clothes for Gar, while Kory, and Rachel head downstairs. It only takes you, Jason and the other women a few minutes to get ready and meet at the elevator. Jason hands you one of his helmets and you almost laugh as you take it from him. Of course, you're taking the bike.

"We'll follow you guys." Jason states, getting on the bike, kicking the kickstand up while you get on the back.

"You sure?" Donna asks, the other women already piling into the SUV.

"We'll be fine." You assure her, popping the helmet on, Jason doing the same and sliding down the face shield.

Donna doesn't say anything else before walking off to the SUV. Donna starts driving, moving past Jason and you.

"Hold on." Jason states and you grip his waist tightly before Jason shifts the bike into first and pulls the throttle.

Jason and you follow the SUV closely, keeping the drive silent despite the com system that’s also connected to the SUV. You're both on edge going into this. Gar is your friend. Neither of you want to hurt him. You know you will not do it, no matter what. He's a tiger. All of you together, should be able to stop him without any major problems. But, you’re worried anyway and Jason knows there's a chance you won't have a choice. Bruce trained him and Dick to be prepared if they get brainwashed. Bruce went over what can happened, what being brainwashed can make them do. It can be nearly impossible to stop someone. The last thing Jason wants to do is hurt his friend, again. But, if you're all given choice he knows he'll have to be the one to do it because he wouldn't let you. So, you both stay in your heads until the SUV comes to a sudden stop with an explosion, Jason almost running right into it as the bike swings sideways.

"What the fuck?" Jason yells out.

"Deathstroke. Get down!" They can hear Donna yell through your com systems.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You groan, ducking into Jason as the sound of constant gunfire echoes around the alley.

Jason looks over at you and for a second, he thinks about leaving. He could get you both out of there completely unscathed. You're hidden behind the SUV and you're not too far into the alleyway. You could take another alley safely, get to Gar. Jason debates it, knowing that with Deathstroke's constant firing, none of you will be able to get close anyway. But, that's backing down and you're supposed to be a team. But, then he come back to you whose grip on him in nearly suffocating and he hears a yelp from in from of you. Jason peaks up to look inside the SUV, seeing Kory's the one who was just shot.

"We have to do something, Jay. We're literally sitting ducks." You yell over the gunfire.

"I know!" Jason yells back and he swears if it weren't for the whole Deathstroke dropping him from a skyscraper problem, he'd have a decision already and you'd both be fine. But, ever since, his head isn't in it and he can't think straight in these situations. The fear of it is almost paralyzing.

"Y/n, Jason, are you two okay?" Dawn yells over the gunfire.

"We're fine." You say back. "Besides the gunfire. What do we do?"

But then, someone jumps from a building and onto the roof the SUV, the gunfire coming to a halt. You and Jason look up to see some random person in a blue and black suit just standing there.

"Who the fuck is this freak now?" Jason sounds absolutely exasperated.

The two of you watch as he flips dramatically and effortlessly off the car.

"You can take the boy out of the circus but you can't take the circus out of the boy." You mutter and you hear Jason chuckle softly, looking back at you.

"Really?"

"He just flipped off the car to Deathstroke, I mean."

Of course, it's Dick. For some reason, that makes perfect sense in the world of insanity you're all currently living in. The two of you flip your face shields up, leaning up to watch through the back of the SUV. Dick starts fighting Deathstroke and holds his own just fine now. Everyone watching is stuck in a state of confusion watching this whole exchange happen. How did Dick even know where to find all of you?

"Who's been hit?" Dick asks.

"Kory." Rachel says.

"You take care of her. I'll take care of him. Jason, Y/n, you two get out of here and get to Gar and Conner. This is my fight." Dick says.

Jason looks back at you and he is not a fan of listening to Dick but, you are sitting ducks back here and at this rate, you'll never make to Gar. So, he puts down his face shield and you follow his lead, gripping his waist tightly before he swings the bike around and peels off in the opposite direction.

When you arrive at the carnival, it's absolute chaos when you get there. Some people are intrigued by a green tiger and others are seeking shelter by leaving or trying to hide out. The two of you spot injured people trying to flee as fast as they can. There’s a sense of unease as you make your way traveling in the direction of the screams. It’s just the two of you, knowing you have to face Gar, your best friend. That’s not something either of you really want to do, ever.

You and Jason spot Gar and Conner from a few yards away. Gar starts attacking Conner, latching onto his arm and Conner is completely unphased. The two of you have a sense of dread. Of course, you knew the report was true. Gar was attacking people but maybe you both had a little bit of hope it wouldn't be this bad. But, for Gar to attack Conner, shit is very not good. And Jason's jaw clenches because he's worried he's too far gone. Gar doesn't eat meat, he doesn't hurt people. And here he is attacking someone who's supposed to be his friend, according to you. And you watch as Conner throws Gar effortlessly twenty yards away and into one of the rides.

"You get Gar." Jason looks at you taking a few steps forward.

One of you is going to need to deal with Gar while the other handles Conner. You can’t solely focus on one of them until the other Titans show up. Jason at least has the experience. And you know about animals.

"Are you insane? He's half Superman." You groan. With Dick showing up and having the other Titans, surely the fight with Deahtstroke can’t take too long and they’ll be here soon.

"Yeah? The fuck you think he's gonna do? Just let Gar go? Not finish him off? You go and I'll distract him."

You shake your head and you hate the idea. You aren't sure how you’re supposed to unbrainwash him. No one exactly prepared you for any of this. And Jason going against Conner sounds terrible. Conner had no issues throwing Gar like a ragdoll and he's at least a tiger and a meta-human. Jason, while he might be Robin, is still just human.

"Look," Jason walks over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Bruce said we need hear traumatic shit to pull us back. That's how he trained us." Jason explains and you want to know who the hell is letting Bruce Wayne train kids? Letting them relive their trauma. "Not sure if it'll fucking work because he should be listening to himself say all that but," Jason shrugs. "Worth a shot." Jason looks over to Conner and then back to you. "If shit gets messy, do something. I trained you, you'll be fine." Jason offers you a smirk that doesn't have the same snarkiness behind it.

"Not me I'm worried about."

"I'm--"

"Robin, yeah, yeah, yeah." You roll your eyes. "Don't do anything fucking stupid, Jay."

Jason gives you a grin, pulling his hands away as he starts walking backwards. "I never do anything stupid."

You nod your head, blinking your eyes slowly at him. He's gonna get his ass handed to him.

You reluctantly let Jason do his thing while you make your way over to Gar. You’re not willing to start telling him stories about the shit he's been through, not without trying something else. If hearing it from himself is supposed to work but not hearing it from you, maybe you telling him good things will work. The opposite.

"Gar?" You kneel down in front of him and you swear your mom is screaming at you from beyond the grave. Tigers are wild animals, not pets and they will eat you. But, this is Gar.

Gar growls at you, lifting his head weakly.

"It's me." You’re cautious. "I know you're in there." You avoid looking directly into his eyes, unsure of how his animal instincts work, especially right now. "Remember when Dick brought me to the tower? You were the first person I talked to and you were so excited because I was watching The Goonies?" You give him a smile. "You brought me pizza. And you, uh, you walked with me around the tower when I thought Jerry was there. Remember when we had a Nerf war against Dick and he got us back? Or that time Jason turned him blue? Or when I beat you at Mario Kart because I messed up your controller? Or when you showed me Resident Evil and you rambled about it for 2 hours.” You let out a soft laugh as you try to think of more things that have happened as quickly as possible.

You aren’t exactly sure what else you’re supposed to tell him, how many things you’re supposed to list. But, he has stopped growling at you.

“You've been there for me through almost every nightmare I've ever had and you were there for me when I completely lost it because of Deathstroke. You're the nicest person I've ever met and you're strong as fuck so I know you're in there somewhere." You scoot closer to him and cautiously and gently, put your hands on either side of his cheeks. The fur is soft under your hands. He growls again but you don't jerk away. "I'm not scared of you. And I know you won’t hurt me." You rest your forehead against his and in tiger form, it feels weird because his head is so much bigger than yours. But, it's soft and warm. "I know you’re in there and I believe in you."

You suck in a breath, closing your eyes. Despite the constant pessimism that seems to be intertwined in your blood, you’re positive this has to be working. He isn’t growling anymore and he’s not trying to eat you. Gar is in there somewhere then, Gar starts to transform back into human form. You can feel his face shift under your hands as you pull away, a gentle and relieved smile pulling at your lips. His eyes flicker at you as a sheepish smile comes to his face. You saved him.

"Hey." You smile widely at him and it's the softest smile you’ve ever given him.

"Thank you." Gar's eyes are tired as he lets out a breath. How did you know to do that?

"You don't have to thank me." You laugh softly. "Here." You pull the backpack off, handing it over. "Grabbed some clothes for you."

"Thank you." Gar lets out an awkward chuckle while you stand up and turn around so he can put the clothes on. He’s surprised you even thought to do that. That you were positive you would be able to get him back and he would need his clothes. Gar will be eternally grateful for you.

"Are you okay?" You ask, still with your back to him. You can't believe it worked and you’re so happy it did. The world is a cruel place, but Gar does not deserve that cruelty. 

"Uh..." Gar stutters. Okay? He knows he just hurt several people, he was brainwashed. He is physically in pain. "Yeah."

"Are you lying?" You question, sticking your hands in your hoodie pouch.

"Yeah." Gar clears his throat, walking up to your side. "Just, a little sore." Gar’s voice is low, a little rough and Gar? Not talking about something? That’s new and you do not like that. But, you won’t push because you still have other problems to deal with. That’s a Tower conversation.

You nod your head softly, brows knitting together. “You sure?”

Gar gives you a fake smile. “Yeah, uh, thank you.” Gar furrows his brows, nodding.

"Of course." You nudge him with your arm. "Come on, we should get over there. We can talk at the Tower if you want?"

Gar nods. "Yeah, thank you."

"You'd do the same for me." You interlock your arm with his and the two of you walk, unsteadily towards the other Titans.

"When did Dick get back?" Gar asks, seeing Dick stand near Conner as Rachel uses her powers to encompass them both.

"Love that you're just used to Rachel doing that." You state. "Uh.... twenty minutes ago, apparently. He saved our asses from Deathstroke."

"Deathstroke's back?" Gar groans. What has he missed since being with CADMUS?

"Assume they took care of him since everyone is here now." You shrug. "It's been a few days." You laugh softly. "I'm just glad you're...okay." You smile softly at him before looking back to the Titans, scanning over everyone.

Donna has her rope around Conner while Rachel is using her powers to hold Conner still so he can't move. Rachel has powers surrounding Dick, fully encompassing him. You’re positive you will never get used to that. Dawn, Hank, and Kory are standing behind them, watching. You can feel your heart in your throat until you spot Jason standing a little off to the side of Hank, holding his arm. You let out a breath at the sight of him.

"Jason's back?" Gar questions, seeming to have noticed him at the same time.

"He came back to help." You answer proudly.

"Got the whole team back together." Gar offers a genuine smile.

"Yeah," You feel a warmth in your chest with the idea of everyone sticking around, even if it won’t happen. "All to save you."

Rachel suddenly stops using her powers, releasing Dick and then Conner. Donna releases her rope and Conner seems to be back. He looks around for just a second in horror at the mess. But, then, he looks towards the CADMUS vehicles and starts walking fiercely towards them, you and Gar moving quickly out of his way and towards the others. CADMUS starts firing their guns at Conner which is just a waste since he's literally bulletproof. And none of the Titans are going to stop in to stop him. This is now Conner's fight.

"Nice to have you back, man." Jason gives Gar a nod as he approaches the both of you.

"Thanks for coming back."

"Don't mention it." Jason lets out a scoff, offering you a smile.

"You okay?" You ask, taking a quick glance over him.

"Yeah, all good." Jason nods at you, cocky grin dancing across his lips.

Everyone gathers around as Conner comes back. He stands in front of everyone, getting a better look at the damage caused before he puts the blame on himself. He says it wasn't him but he still did it. Donna is the first one to tell Conner that it's okay and everyone is just glad to have him back.

The people at the carnival then start to come out of hiding, cheering for the Titans. That's a bit surprising but it is kind of nice. Everyone collectively smiles and waves softly. You aren't sure how you feel about it. There's a lot of attention on all of you but it's nice the people appreciate it, rather than hating all of you. You feel a little too exposed but you smile anyway, trying to deal with it because that's what Titans do.

There's a little girl who points out her doll stuck on a ride. Dawn sees the little girl and grabs the doll before walking the doll back to the little girl. But then, everyone hears electricity cackle from above. One of the electric light displays starts to tilt towards Dawn. She rushes as many as she can away, telling everyone to get back before Donna runs and catches the piece of equipment before it falls onto the innocent civilians.

She holds it above her head as it electrocutes her. Every one of you watch in a state of horror, unsure what to do and if any of you can even help. She’s Wondergirl but that doesn’t mean she’s immune to electricity especially that much and for more than just a few seconds. But, there’s nothing any of you can do and after just twenty seconds, Donna goes limp and falls onto the beam.

Dick runs to her and holds her body in his arms. No one says a word, everyone just stands there and watches. How did that kill Wondergirl? Of all things, how? At a carnival? Your heart breaks with the sight and you really liked Donna. You looked up to Donna. Gar hangs his head and you reach down to hold his hand while Jason puts a hand on your shoulder. It's just not fair.

The team goes back to the tower, Hank carrying Donna's body. The tower feels emptier than it ever has before. It's darker than usual, completely silent. It feels like the Reaper is actively looming over the entire Tower, haunting every single one of you. You all lost one of your own tonight, and at a carnival. It wasn't Deathstroke or Dr. Light. Just a piece of electrical equipment that never should have fallen to begin with. And it was Donna. Wondergirl. The reality of it is too heavy for any of you to carry. So, the you all go your separate ways through the tower.

You go off to your room to change and figure you'll check on Gar right after. You’re sad about Donna, despite everything you looked up to her. And it's rough that of all Titans, she's the one killed. And saving people. It hurts through every part of your body and you’re tired of loss. But you focus on Gar because dealing with those feelings isn't something you really want to do. It hurts and when things hurt, you run from them. Avoid them. And Gar just went through something traumatic and now he has to deal with the loss of Donna who he knew a lot better than you did. You focus on your best friend because his feelings about everything just happened are far more important.

Apparently, Jason had the same idea because when you leave your room, Jason was already making his way to Gar's room. Rachel, though, is already leaving Gar's room by the time you join Jason.

"He's not in there." Rachel lets out a sigh.

"Training room?" Jason questions, looking to you.

"Probably." You sigh and the three of you let your bitterness go between each other to find Gar.

The three of you head to the training room where you find Gar sitting alone on one of the benches with his head hung. The three of you pause, your hearts aching for your friend but then move forward. Rachel sits to Gar's left while you sit on his right, Jason standing in front of you. You and Rachel wrap your arms around Gar to hug him while Jason rests his hand on Gar's shoulder. Gar basically collapses into you and Rachel and you both hug him tighter, squeezing him against you to try to offer some type of comfort to the gentle boy who deserved better.

Gar's let out a whimpered cry, Jason giving Gar's shoulder a squeeze and he didn't think he'd see his friend like this. Jason doesn't let people see him as anything less than strong and sturdy, besides you. But, he admires Gar in a way because Gar doesn't really either but he puts on a smile instead of relentless sarcasm. He smiles and then offers kindness and help to others instead of collapsing. There's something admirable in that but he's crying now, breaking and it hurts Jason to see his friend like this.

"It's my fault." Gar lets out a soft whimper.

"It's not your fault." Rachel says quickly.

"None of this is your fault." You assure right after.

"I was the one brainwashed and that got Donna killed." Gar whines while you and Rachel pull away, Jason taking a knee in front of you.

"But, that's not your fault. That's what CADMUS did." Rachel says, her words slow.

"Yeah, that's on CADMUS. Not you." You state.

"CADMUS got her fucking killed, not you, man." Jason assures him.

"But she died because I didn't call Bruce about Conner."

"Look, I said it then and I'm gonna say it again, you did what you thought was best. None of this is on you." You state, getting a look of confusion between Jason and Rachel. Call Bruce? "Bruce probably wouldn't have showed up in time anyway and all this shit would have happened. Not on you."

"Yeah..." Rachel nods in agreement, unsure of what any of that means but is certain none of this could possibly be Gar's fault.

"It's not fair." Gar's voice is so small.

"It's not." Jason shakes his head. "It's fucking bullshit. But, that's not your fault." Jason lets out a sigh. Jason has no idea how to offer comfort to anyone besides you. One of the only people he’s ever been good with is you but, he does know that escapism is Gar’s thing. He likes movies and he likes video games. Jason can’t offer comforting words, but he can offer a movie. "Hey, man, why don't we go...watch one of your movies or something? Like we used to." Jason offers and the offer caches all three of you off guard but you and Rachel say nothing, instead you wait for Gar to talk.

"Not really feeling it, Jason." Gar lets out a huff.

"So?" You quip. "You like movies and you don't deserve to drown yourself in the guilt of everything that's not your fault."

"Exactly. I can make us popcorn and order from that pizza place you like." Rachel offers Gar a gentle smile and you let the anger for Rachel fade just a little. You’re not sure what was up Rachel's ass last night, but she does care about Gar and it's very obvious now.

"Come on, man." Jason groans and gives Gar a grin. "All of us getting along, watching something again?"

Gar lets out a weak laugh, you and Rachel smiling softly at each other. "Okay, okay, yeah." Gar nods with agreement.

Jason smiles proudly, getting to his feet and offering Gar his hand. Gar takes his hand and stands up.

"Uh, can you guys give us a second? We'll meet you out there."  Rachel asks, Sam snapping her attention to her.

Jason eyes the two of you suspiciously, not sure if leaving you both alone is the best thing to do but he nods anyway and Gar smiles softly, leaving with Jason.

"I wanted to talk to you." Rachel sucks in a breath.

With everything that's happened tonight, Rachel wants to get everything out in the open and squash everything. It's been bothering her a little bit since last night. Rachel never had many friends. This is the first time, she has more than one and it sucks fighting. Even if she knows her own feelings were valid, she knows yours were, too. So, she'd rather get it over with now rather than wait.

"I gathered." You nod your head.

"I'm sorry for what I said last night."

The apology catches you by surprise but you’re glad this is where this conversation is going. "Yeah...me, too." You swallow your pride and honestly, life is too fucking short. At the end of the day, you're in this together. You're Titans, together. Doesn't matter where you are or if you get along, you're in it together.

"I was...Dick is like an older brother and the dreams make everything feel so real and sometimes it is. Not having dreams about Gar, made me think he was okay. But, with Dick..."

"It felt like he really was in more danger?"

"Yeah, it was never that I was choosing between them or that I don't care about Gar."

"I know." You nod your head quickly. "I was just so mad about everything. I mean, I'm still dealing with Deathstroke shit and honestly, maybe I was a little...” You scrunch your nose. “Hurt that Jason left...with Rose. Then, getting attacked, not feeling good enough again. I took a lot of that out on you because I was still mad at you for Jason."

"I should have talked to him. I never meant for him to spiral like that. I didn't think the other Titans had stuff going on. It was just me and I thought it had to be him." Rachel admits and truly, she never dreamed Jason was in that bad of a headspace. Rachel can explode just like everyone else, but she’s not cruel.

"I just wish you would have listened to me at least. Jason, fine, I get that, but we're supposed to be friends so. I just...I was mad. And...." You pause. "Scared, honestly. Jason wasn't answering me, Gar was kidnapped and hurt. Those...they both mean a lot to me and it was a lot."

"We were both just scared for everyone."

"Yeah," You laugh softly. "I am...sorry I punched you. Especially hearing this side of it. Give you shit for not hearing Jason out only for me not to offer you that kindness. I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Rachel smiles softly. "I will apologize to him, too."

You smile kindly. "Thank you. He'll probably yell at you but I'm serious, just let him yell." You scrunch your nose. "He'll be fine after he yells." You laugh softly.

"I will." Rachel assures you.

"Hey, he's leaving anyway so...it won't be too bad."

Rachel's face falls. "He's leaving?"

You nod sadly. "Mhm, he's only here for Gar and then he's gone. Back to Gotham, back to Bruce."

"Are you okay? I know what I said but..." Rachel offers a sympathetic look.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You give her a fake smile and you decide not to tell Rachel.

You’re willing to move on from everything, especially if she apologizes to Jason. You were both just stressed and scared and worried. It was a lot for the both of you. But a part of you is a little worried that if you tell Rachel, she might tell Gar before you can. You know you’re going to stay here for at least a little bit to make sure he's okay and you aren't sure when you'll tell him. You don't want Rachel thinking you’re withholding the information on purpose or Rachel accidentally letting it slip. So, you sit on it and assure Rachel you’re okay.

"We're all good and I know Gotham is his home."

"Okay, if you want to talk.." Rachel smiles softly.

"Thank you. I'm sorry again for all of that shit. Are we okay?"

Rachel leans forward, pulling you in for a hug and you freeze for a second. And then you hug Rachel back.

"Yeah, we're okay." Rachel pulls away and gets up, offering you her hand. "Let's see what movie Gar picked."

The two of you make your way to the living room where you see Gar and Jason seated on the couch, an open space between them. Dick is just walking in with two bowls of popcorn, Kory holding a few drinks. You and Rachel look between each other before giving the older Titans soft smiles and taking your rightful seats on either side of Gar. Conner and Krypto are next to join as Gar scrolls through the movies and lands on one he's seen a handful of times.

"What are we watching, Gar?" Dick asks, passing one of the bowls down the couch to younger Titans.

"Ready Player One." Gar offers a soft smile as clicks the movie, the room not knowing anything about it.

"Spielberg, come on guys." You look around.

"That explains absolutely fucking nothing." Jason chuckles with the shake of his head.

"It's a video game movie, kind of." Gar explains, clicking the movie.

"That makes sense." Kory laughs softly.

Gar turns on the movie with a soft smile and the room falls silent. Dick and Kory saw Jason and Gar walk in, plopping on the couch. When they asked what they were doing and Gar said watching a movie, they offered to join. Dick would join every once in a while anyway and he just lost his best friend tonight. It was more so Kory's idea but Dick went along with it. The four of you are still his responsibility and maybe this isn't such a bad idea.

"What's going on?" Hank asks about half an hour into the movie, Dawn right at his side as they see the living room filled with Titans.

"We're watching a movie." Kory offers him a smile. "A video game movie."

Gar offers Hank a smile, the indicator it was clearly his choice. Hank chuckles softly while Dawn reaches down for his hand and walks the two of them into the living room to join the group of you, picking up two of the only open spots left.

The room falls silent as the movie plays, the new Titans sharing a bowl of popcorn (and maybe tossing a piece to Krypto every now and again). Gar explains every movie reference that shows up to everyone who hasn’t seen it which is almost always Jason and Kory. All of you just let Gar explain it and hear him get excited again, and for that short time during the movie, the grief of losing Donna doesn’t hurt so much. For that two and a half hours, you all live in peace with each other and every one of you needed it.

Two days later, the entire team meets up at a private airport, everyone dressed in black. You’re all sending Donna off in a casket back to Themyscira and her people have come to take her back. To say it was depressing would be an understatement. It was hard for every single one of you. Despite any problems the Titans had, Donna meant a lot to all of you and it's agonizing officially saying goodbye. And that's when Rachel decided to tell everyone she'd be going with. She wants to try and resurrect her. Something in her believes she has the power to do it, or at the very least try. You find it admirable.

Bruce flew in to see Donna off, too. And Rose showed up at the tower the day before, wanting to try out being a Titan for a little bit until she figures out what she really wants to do. Especially with having Jericho's consciousness. That was a little awkward for Jason and you. But it was nice seeing Bruce show up and maybe he's not all too bad. He gave you a pair of gloves when he showed up, explaining Jason and Gar had called him with the idea. Made with zylon fibers. Not only was it nice of those boys, but it was really nice of Bruce to go out of his way to do that.

Everyone got to be Titans that night, too. There was an alert of a problem happening and everyone, one by one, got up from the table to get suited up (or changed) and head out to fight for the first time as a full team. It went off without a hitch, too. You were a large team and it felt so good to be out there, doing exactly what the Titans are supposed to be doing. Saving and protecting people who cannot do it themselves.

Jason and Bruce flew out the following day. Saying goodbye to Jason, this time, didn't hurt nearly as much. You knew you'd be back in Gotham soon enough and he wasn't leaving over horrible circumstances. He wasn't leaving because he felt like he had to anymore, as if it was forced on him. It was a little sad, but you both knew it was not permanent.

Within a few days, you get a call from Jason giving you the all good. Bruce said you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. You said you wanted to give it a little longer, to make sure Gar is okay especially with Rachel leaving. Dawn and Hank also were very clear on them not staying very long. So, you owe it to him to make sure he's okay before you take off, too. He won't be alone this time. He'll have Dick, Kory, Conner, and Krypto but you owe him.

Over the next month, you hang around Gar, making sure he’s okay. At first, it was his turn to suffer from nightmares about being brainwashed and killing the Titans. Those were rough nights but Gar is resilient and he talks. He talks through all of it then escapes into video games until he’s ready to talk again. The whole time you offer him the listening ear, and assure him that everything was CADMUS’s fault. The talking and video games and friendship helps. Gar picks himself up pretty quickly, swinging back into the routine of things and it helps that you’re all actually being Titans now. You’re actually accomplishing missions and working together which is making everyone feel useful for once.

And over that month of being there for Gar, you feel yourself deteriorating. It’s easy to avoid feelings and problems and trauma when you’re focused on someone or something else. But, Gar gets better and you get worse. It’s as if your flight or fight has been kicked into overdrive the whole time but now with things getting, somewhat back to normal, it’s crashing.

The nightmares are consistent and at this point, you swear you’ll never get a full night’s rest ever again. The paranoia is back, more so than it was even with Jerry. The attack on the tower made it feel not safe. Even with the other Titans around, it doesn’t feel safe anymore because that bubble was popped. You weren’t the one kidnapped that time, but it lingers in the depths of your mind anyway and you’re always waiting for something like that to happen again, looking over your shoulder. So, you don’t sleep for more than two to three hours and you train. You’re always found either with Gar or in the training room running yourself to the ground. And you know that with Gar doing okay, it’s time because you can’t live like this anymore and there’s a place for you Gotham.

The problem is that you definitely haven't told anyone. Every day, you swore you would do it. You'd get up the courage to do it. And instead, you'd train and avoid it. You'd dodge questions about Jason. You'd bury yourself in your scrapbook. The idea of telling them, wasn't a good one. You ran from the conversation but, you can't do that anymore and you know you can't. So, you find yourself in the display room, trying to muster up the courage to tell Dick and Gar.

Dick walks in and he's had a suspicion. He's seen that look before. He has worn that look when he decided to leave Gotham and go to Detroit. You’ve been a bit spacey lately, too and at first, he thought it was everything that happened. You’ve been the main person looking after Gar but he watched the security footage back. He knows you were attacked and fought just as hard. You lost Donna, too. But, as the days went by, something seemed off. Dick is a detective and since finally coming to clean about Jericho, his head is far more clear and he's picking up on a lot of things a lot better. You haven't done anything new to your room or asked for anything. You’ve picked up extra chores and then there’s the training. Dick just knows.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Dick asks, standing beside you, keeping his stare at the displays.

You turn your head, the sad smile growing as you nod. You aren't going to lie. You need to tell him and he figured it out but it hurts to confirm it anyway. "Yeah, I am."

Dick nods, his expression sad as he looks at you "Can I ask where?"

"You've gotten a little better at asking things, Dick Grayson." Your voice is soft but holds your signature sarcasm. You shake your head, sticking your hands in the pouch of your hoodie before sucking in a breath. "Gotham." You look to your shoes, knowing you can end the conversation here but decide to try not to run from this one thing. You owe Dick that much. "It's home, ya know?" You look up at Dick and he nods.

"Yeah," His voice is understanding as he puts his hands in his pockets. "But, it doesn't have to be."

"I know." You answer. "But..." You pause, looking back to the display columns. You love to give him shit because he makes it easy and he’s he oldest. He’s basically everyone’s older brother. But, you owe him the explanation because he has done a good job here, especially after confessing the stuff about Jericho. You never want him to think you leaving is because he failed or something. "Um...a-a lot happened here, this Tower, this city. It’s a lot for me and I don’t know if I can handle dealing with all of that here. Gotham though, it might be a mess, but it’s home. I was happy there.” You let out a scoff, chewing the inside of your cheek. “More shit just keeps happening here and I need to find that part of myself that can be happy despite the bullshit. I don’t think I can find that here. I left some of myself in Gotham and I just want to see if I can find some of that again, get over some of this shit. I don’t know.” You shrug your shoulders. “Gotham is home, probably always will be and I...wanna go home.”

"I understand." Dick's voice is quiet and he's sad to see your leave but he understands. Finding himself was the hardest thing he ever did but it was worth it. He doesn't like the idea of you going to Gotham, not with what Gotham does to people but if it's what you need to do, he can't stand in your way. "Where are you gonna stay?"

You give him a dry chuckle. "With Bruce and Jason." You shake your head again as you roll your eyes. "I understand the irony in that."

"Jason pull some strings?" Dick is a little relieved that you won’t be homeless in Gotham, not he ever thought Jason would let you.

"Mhm." You hum. You don't want to get into it. Dick does not want to hear about that one.

"Have you told Gar?"

You shake your head and the very mention of his name makes you want to run out of the display room and away from this conversation. "No. I will." You say quickly. "You just asked first."

"Tell him soon." Dick says. He has a lot to say but he doesn't want to sway your decision or guilt you about it. He took you in, took Rachel in, and he’s watching you both go off on your own to do your own thing. Maybe he’s a little proud, too.

"I will when we're done." You let out a deep breath. You turn to face him completely this time and you hate to admit, but you'll miss him. "Thank you for letting me be a Titan."

The corner of Dick's lips tugs into a sad smile. "You'll always have a place as a Titan, okay?"

You nod. "So, I can come back when I figure my shit out?" You hope one day you’ll want to. You do like being a Titan, using your powers for good. But for now, it’s not healthy for you.

"Of course." Dick smiles at you. "Go talk to Gar." Dick sucks in a breath and he's let so many people down. He's let you guys down and he won't do that again. "Hey, be careful, okay?"

"Because Jason." You state and the two of them actually worked out some of their shit while Jason was here. Dick actually apologized but you suspect that's what he means anyway because Dick will always think Jason is reckless and impulsive and a bad influence.

Dick shakes his head. "You two have that figured out." Dick lets out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck and you raise a brow at him. "With Bruce."

You offer a singular, large nod. "I will, I see how you and Jason turned out. You don't have to worry. If...shit hits the fan though...I can call, right?"

"Of course. We'll all be there."

"Thank you. I'm gonna go talk to Gar." You turn to leave. "Hey," You turn back around. "Keep doing this, you're getting a lot better at it."

You head to Gar's room next, deciding to rip the band-aid off. You do feel a little better after talking with Dick. It didn't go terribly wrong which means it should be okay with Gar. You knock on his door quickly, before walking inside. Gar is sat on his couch playing Resident Evil and he looks over his shoulder quickly, offering you a kind smile. The guilt floods back into your blood like a dam's just broken. He looks so happy and content and you’re about to break this to him.

"Hey." You say quietly, taking a seat beside him.

"Hey." He offers you a smile, pausing his game. "What's up?"

"Um..." Your brows furrow as you tug your sleeves over your hands. The action does not go unnoticed and Gar knows something’s up. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Is everything okay?" Gar asks, hesitance in his voice.

"I-I, uh, I'm....leaving." You get the words out but it feels like your vocal cords are short-circuiting.

It's as if Gar can feel the last of his heart breaking. Everyone is leaving and he's gonna be left here. Sure, he has Dick and Conner and Kory and Krypto but...what about everyone else? His best friends?

"Why?" He asks, his voice cracking.

"I....I-I-I I just....I need to figure out who I am now. I'm....not...I'm not who I was before and..." You choke down the lump of guilt clogging on your throat. "I need to go back to Gotham and find me and....just figure out my fucking shit."

"Why can't you do that here?" He asks and he's so sad, you can see it in the way his eyes dodge yours

You shake your head, offering him full transparency. "I fucked up. I couldn't save Jason and me. I have these powers and they were fucking useless. I couldn't talk him out of it, hell, I went along with it. I never would have done that before. But...I felt like I had something to prove to myself. That I'm strong and I'm not as weak as Jerry made me feel but then I was dropped from a fucking skyscraper with my best friend and we almost died. And then........." You keep your eyes on him because if you’re going to do this, you owe him that. "CADMUS attacked and I couldn't save any of us, or myself." You scoff. "Then, Donna." You shake your head. "I just feel useless and not good enough and...scared. I'm so sick feeling that way and running myself right into the ground over it. I never had healthy coping mechanisms but..." You suck in a deep breath. "I don't sleep and I train all the time. I need to leave and get away from the this city, figure out who I am outside of a Titan because I was thrown into this. I chose it, but thrown into it and I need to just get away for a little bit. Gotham is a shitshow, but it's fucking home."

"Gotham?" Of course, it's Gotham. Where else would you go? But, it hurts anyway. That's literally across the country.

"I know." You nods softly. "It's....it is my home, Gar. I was born there and raised there for almost my entire life. My mom is buried there. I need to go back. It's....I always felt like I belonged there"

He nods, not knowing what else to say. He won't convince you to stay, it's not him. He respects you and your decision even though it hurts. Even though he's upset. It hurts. Everyone is leaving again.

"You're not useless." Gar gets out. "And you are good enough. I know you don't believe it but it's true."

You nod. "Yeah, it just doesn't feel like it and I need to not feel like this anymore."

"I understand." Gar offers a solemn nod.

"I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry." Gar forces a sad smile to his face. "It's what's best for you. If it's going to make you happy, it's the right thing to do."

"Thank you." You swear you have no idea what you did to deserve his friendship.

"Where are you gonna stay?"

You let out a soft laugh. "That's the irony. With fucking Bruce Wayne and Jason, of course."

"You're gonna live with Batman?" Gar's eyes widen and it makes you laugh.

"Mhm, can you believe it?"

"Do...do you think you'll see the Batcave?"

Your nose scrunches as you lets out a laugh. Of course, that's what Gar is interested in. "I hadn't thought about it, Gar."

"It's Batman's Manor." Gar's eyes are wide with excitement.

"If I see the Batcave, I'll let you know." You shake your head. "You could come visit and you're a Titan so like...maybe you'd convince Bruce to show you anyway."

"That'd be so cool." Gar beams.

"I kind of just wanna throw a Baterang."

"You would." Gar chuckles softly. "Jason though." Gar shakes his head and he's also kind of waiting to see when that's gonna happen. He's pretty sure everyone kind of is at this point.

"One of the free perks of living with Bruce Wayne." You state and Gar groans. "What?"

"Nothing." Gar shakes his head. You and Jason will figure it out. "When do you leave?"

You offer him a yikes expression before giving him an awkward smile. "Two days."

"You waited until now to tell me?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna try to work on that. I was scared." You shrug. "It seems easier not to tell you."

"You can always tell me things."

"I know." You let out a soft laugh. "Did...you wanna play some Mario Kart though? We have two days to still play." You’re ready to be done having the conversation. It’s not easy for either of you and you’d rather be enjoying the time you have left rather than talking about it.

Gar lets out a laugh, a toothy smile landing on his lips. "Okay, yeah, grab the controllers." Gar states, saving his game while you grab the controllers from the switch.

It's gonna be weird not having you around. But, Gar understands it's what's best for you. He'll never stand in your way just like he didn't with Rachel or Jason or anyone else that's left. If he's learned anything, it's that the Titans do come back together eventually. Gar has hope you'll be back so he'll enjoy your last two days like he has been.

The next two days go by in a blur and soon enough, it's time for you to leave. You look around your room with a backpack on your shoulders. You give the room a sad smile and you swear you'll be back one day. You do love being a Titan but you need to figure you out now. It's time and you'll be back one day. So, you walk towards the door and close it behind you.

You walk out into the kitchen where Dick, Kory, Gar, Conner, and Krypto are seated around. You offer them all a sad smile. Kory is the first to say goodbye, offering you a hug and telling you not to get into too much trouble. Conner is next, also offering a hug and saying it was nice getting to know you. You make him promise to send you Krypto updates. Gar is next and he wraps you in the tightest hug he's ever given you.

"You'll keep in touch right?" Gar pulls away, eyes sad but filled with hope.

"Of course." You laugh softly. "You're my best friend, always." You flash him a toothy smile

"Good because I'm really gonna miss you."

"I’m gonna miss you, too. I'm just a phone call and flight away." You assure him. "Come visit."

"Will do." Gar offers you a sheepish nod, stepping back so Dick can say goodbye.

Dick stands in front of you and offer you a handshake.

"So fucking professional. You know, you took me in for no reason at all."

"You were injured."

"Yeah, but you could have brought me to a hospital." You quip. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Dick." This is the most sincere you’ve ever been with Dick. "Thank you for looking out for me and saving my life, more than once. One hundred points for you." A confident smile comes to your lips.

Dick lets out a laugh. "You were really keeping a point system?"

"Well, I was joking but you seemed so surprised, I needed to commit to the bit. So, congrats on your win."

"Thank you." Dick's eyes widen with sarcasm.

You close the distance between you and hug him. It catches Dick off guard but he hugs you back.

"Listen to Kory, don't get into too much trouble."

"Have no worry, Dickolas. I've grown." You say as you pull away.

"You have." Dick nods at you.

"Well, I'll be back and I'll keep in touch." You offer all of them a last smile before walking over to Gar and giving him one final and long hug. You'll miss him the most.

You pet Krypto and give him a kiss before you head to the elevator. Everyone heads to the hallway to watch you leave and the doors shut. This is it, you’re really going home. After over a year, you’re finally going back home and it might be a little bittersweet but you’re so happy. Gotham is a shit show but it will always be home. You miss it.

You exit the building and right outside, there stands Jason with his motorcycle, one helmet on the bike and the other in his hand. He gives you a wide grin. He didn't tell you he was coming. You were given the address for the private landing strip where Bruce would send his private jet to pick you up. You were okay with that actually, just some time to be alone. But now you’re looking at Jason you’re so relieved to see him.

"Miss me?" Jason quips as you get closer.

You scrunch your nose, shrugging your shoulder. "Nope, not even a little bit."

"Alright, fuck you." Jason chuckles, looking to the ground and then back to you. Maybe this has been the longest month of his life.

"I don't think Bruce would appreciate us joining the mile-high club in his jet." You quip, Jason gaining the devious smirk that makes fireworks explode through your heart.

"He doesn't have to know." Jason quips right back.

"No!" You shake your head, a booming laugh escaping your lips. "Shut the fuck up." You close the distance between you, bringing him into a hug and you didn't think he'd actually come just to fly back to Gotham. But, you’re so happy he did. "You didn't have to come. I could have flown alone." You pull away, the biggest smile Jason has ever seen splits your face.

Jason shrugs. "Yeah, but that's not very fun. Thought you'd like some company."

"Thank you, Jay."

"Anytime, babe." Jason hands you a helmet.

"Can't just take an Uber like a normal person?" You quip while the two of you get on the bike. You put the helmet on while Jason gets ready.

"Nope, this is faster." Jason taunts you, looking back at you.

"Okay, Fast and The Furious." You roll your eyes as Jason slides his face shield down.

"Ready to go home?" Jason asks, looking back at you.

"Hell yeah." You slide your own face shield down, wrapping your arms around him before Jason kicks it into first.

The city goes by in a blur as Jason zips between traffic and you have a smile under your helmet. Every piece of you that might have been second-guessing this decision washes away. You’re going home and having Jason be the one that's there, makes the whole experience a little bit better. And you’re so excited to get back to Gotham, see what it will bring you this time around. And Jason is thrilled to be bringing you back home. It'll just be the two of you in Gotham. No Titans, no Deathstroke. Just you. It's you and him.

prev. chapter | Book 2 masterlist 

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

A/N: Book 1: Okay hi, so I know I skipped over quite a bit but this was already so long lmao and I didn’t wanna break it up. If y’all want an exert from anything I skipped over, just let me know!! Thank you guys again for reading. It truly means SO much to me 😭

Book 2: First of all, I get to the point EARLY in book 2, I promise!!!!! I literally have that already written lol Chapter 1 of book 2 will be out in 2 weeks!! I’ll try to stay posting on Wednesday/Thursdays!! Book 2 also follows canon pretty closely so look forward to that angst lol But, yeah I’ll be part with chapters in 2 weeks!! Thank you guys!! 😭

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @anthemabby // @baebeepeach​

[expanding-hyrule]

This is largely a repost of the original version I did on @amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet to add to the pinned post, but for the sake of having it here on this blog too as its own post:

The Expanding Hyrule Community Discord!

Much like the name Expanding Hyrule and Original Legends, all of this is very new. And open to feedback 110%. But, much like the fact that there is no name for this niche of the Zelda community, there's not a place either. So we need one so we can pick a name together!

A lot of the assets are temp reused stuff from my fic, MoaH, but the asset is also a guild symbol and what better way to start an adventure with adventurers than with a guild! Union metaphor, adventure tie in, it'll get changed, but until a name gets picked, the acronym would be "EH" which is not as enthusiastic as I'd like to be about this. So, what is the server now!

At the top, I want to mention that I am solo-modding this at the moment, so the scale of what the server can do will scale based on that and whenever I get a mod situation figured out. Which is why:

Server is 16+. For this particular brand of building community, I want to have a space open to new storytellers and established storytellers alike. I am however only one person and until I have more Discord savvy folks to help, I don't know that I have the energy to deal with very young folks.

To the meat of it: this server is, for the purposes of this post, what I'm currently calling "Original Legend" Zelda stories. These are stories that aren't based on any particular game, they would be their own games if they were ever adapted. If you tell stories in that niche or are interested in those kinds of stories, here's your place to help us pick a name for this community and support it!

If you write Original Legend fic, have an Original Legend comic, or generally make fanworks in this niche, you can get your own subcategory set up on the server for boosting and promoting your Hyrule. A community of book clubs is the idea. All you gotta do is head to the Expanding Hyrule section of the server, give me some details on how you want to set up your subsection of the server, and there you go, a place to collect resources for your work maybe a little easier than shifting through a blog or hoping the tags don't break. Here's a few of mine on the server already as examples:

(Some of these subcategories can get big, so minimized for space, here's mine for example)

Continuing on that point, the events section is open for request. If you upload on a schedule or one off but you know the day, I'll get an event set up so folks can get reminders of your releases. Additionally, if you do streams for your art or art for creators in this space, will also happily add those into the events.

For folks that like engaging with Zelda fanworks, yo! You get to help us build a new part of the community! This fandom has built niches before, like the Links Meet niche. Here's another one that we can set up together! And as creators in this space, we need your help because this genre has no central identity for us to organize behind. You get to help create that!

What are y'all waiting for? The pic is linked with the invite, here it is again (x), and it's on the pinned post for this blog.

(This post has external links, so reblogs help a ton!)

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Superstition: Chapter 1

Namor x oc/reader (female)

(Currently PG-13, but likely heading towards very adult content, so read with that in mind.)

A/N: So, ya'll liked the teaser, eh? Here's a full chapter!

Tagging: Tags break my post, but I reply to comments on each new chapter when I post. Think of it as a personal, hand-written note.

Chapter 1

They said women of her kind should never touch the sea before they fell in love, that they’d lose their hearts to the waves. A forfeit to destiny or some such shit.

It was an old wives’ tale. A superstition.

But as the car careened towards the edge of the pier, rocketing over splintered wood without a hope of stopping before it hit the water, she kinda wondered if it was true. Just a little bit. The idea popped into her head like a bubble, random association as her brain fizzled through shock. Pain. Panic.

A bullet caught the driver’s side window, and it exploded in a rain of glass. Flinching away with closed eyes, she instinctively threw an arm across the wheezing, blue-skinned child in the passenger seat. The wheel jerked with the motion, and the car went over the side of the pier.

Freefall stole her belly, her sense of time, her understanding of gravity.

She had a suspended moment of clarity to reflect on her life choices, on her chances of surviving all this. In summary: she was an idiot, she missed her brothers, and she would not be seeing this adventure to its end.

None of it mattered. She had to escape, and she wasn’t about to leave the little girl with her big, terrified eyes floating in the tank beside her cell. Fuck that. The car, the pursuit, and the bullets were probably inevitable, anyway. At least she’d get the kid back somewhere she could breathe.

One of them would make it out alive.

And she’d rather bleed out from the bullet she’d caught than end her days in that cage. Or under a curious surgeon’s knife.

Better to give the ocean her heart.

They hit the water, and all was pain again. Saltwater gushed through the broken window, and the waterline climbed up the windshield much faster than she’d anticipated. But the kid looked better already. Less blue where the water swallowed her legs and chest.

Unlocking the girl’s seatbelt, she grabbed her by the arm, dragged her across her lap, and started stuffing her out the window. Hopefully she wouldn’t cut herself on the glass, but she needed to be out of the vehicle and on her way out to sea before the men with guns left their cars and started spraying the water.

“Go. Go on.” The water lapped up to kiss her chin, and ominous bubbles billowed from under the hood. She only had a few more good breaths before the car went under. “Get out of here, go.”

The kid reached through the window, pulling her arm, like she could return the favor. Scrambling to unlock her own seatbelt, she shook her head, trying to push the girl away. “I’m fine! Go!”

But as she tried to work the seatbelt free, she realized with dawning horror that the button wasn’t working. The mechanism must’ve jammed in the crash. She was anchored to her seat, and it was sinking fast.

“Fuck.”

She tipped her head back, neck straining as the surface moved up, and up, and over her face. Salt burned her eyes, and she barely saw anything beyond vague shapes in the dark water. The only light came from the full moon, and that was dwindling fast as gravity pulled her deeper. She ran her hands over the console, along the side of her seat, and along the edge of the window, looking for a shard large enough to cut herself free. But the window had shattered into diamond-sized fragments. Nothing big enough to save her.

The pressure roared in her ears, the ache bad enough to draw tears – not that she or anyone else could recognize them in this salty hell.

By the time car settled on the seafloor, about a dozen yards below the surface, she could see a faint cloud of red leaking from her side, and her brother’s taunting voice rang in her memory. “Don’t go swimming with a papercut or the water will get in, and it will get infected, and you will die.”

Well. This was no papercut, and she probably wouldn’t live long enough to get an infection, but she probably would die.

Wouldn’t he be so pleased to have been right?

She wanted him. She wanted all of her brothers. If any of the bastards shook her awake and laughed at her for being a big baby crying in her sleep she’d hug them, thank them, and never run off alone again. Or. She’d at least try. She’d really, really try.

She’d do anything.

Danu.

She didn’t want to die alone.

Thrashing in her seat, pinned as the burn in her lungs turned into frantic spasms, she clawed at the safety belt poised to end her life. Her chest was on fire. Her head felt like it might explode. How long before she broke? Before she had to breathe anything at all, even water?

Little hands clamped around her wrist, tugging.

And the damn fish kid still hadn’t left.

Fucking fuck.

The child was trying to say something. Her voice carried through the water, but she didn’t recognize the language, and it wasn’t like she could answer. Bubbles crept out her nose and she gestured out, away, towards deep water where the kid could escape their pursuers.

Shadows interrupted the moonbeams dancing over the wreck.

Gunfire, muted by the water, just barely cut through the thump of her heartbeat in her ears.

Another good tug on the seatbelt. Nothing.

She didn’t mean to open her mouth.

But she did. And the last of her air rose to stick on the roof of the sunken car in uneven bubbles. Her diaphragm jerked, inviting the sea into her lungs. It didn’t feel like water. It coursed through her like lava, an alien pressure with the soothing touch of an electrical burn.

Every limb took on a life of its own, a last ditch animal reaction to scramble for oxygen. A slow-motion blur of terror and agony as her brain shut down.

The last thing she felt was the seat belt’s sudden release, weightlessness, and hands on her shoulders.

Hands much too large to be a child’s.

----------------------------------------------

She dreamt of cold and dark. The maw of the ocean rising to swallow her as a jellyfish pasted itself over her face.

She dreamt of fire in her lungs and strangers’ voices as swirling black swallowed the moon and stars. No lights to guide her home. No wind to breathe.

Sinking.

Drowning – in water or in air. It didn’t matter.

Shivers quaked through her half-conscious mind as she floated towards awareness, and a sharp pain nearly brought her round. Fingers pushing through the hole in her side conjured iron on her tongue, and she writhed against the weight of hands pushing her down.

But she didn’t wake enough to hear her own screams, though they burned in her throat, and she drifted again.

Soft voices carried through the grey. She didn’t understand them, but a matronly hand pressed to her forehead once, blessedly cool against the fever turning her body into a cauldron. Thick wrinkles and shushing whispers. When it left, she might’ve cried, but without strength to reach for the hand, she could only sink back from the edge of light.

The dark promised peace. Quiet. Recovery or a final end, she wasn’t sure, and if she could resist, she would. She’d call for her brothers, swim back to them, find a grip and never let go again.

But she had nothing left beyond nightmares.

She was a child again, bare feet along the cool stone of a rath’s passage – a fortress made a home, full of places to explore and trouble to find. Tired of her brothers and her cousins, she followed the dim hall alone to the golden light of the crafting room.

“Máthair?”

Her mother’s work always inspired reverence. Her dexterous fingers wove the future, capturing fate and fortune in her patterns. At play, over breakfast, when she tucked her children in at night, the stately woman with whisps of grey threading stories through her hair was Mam. At the loom, she was the Weaver, and a Weaver deserved respect, so right now she was Máthair.

Máthair made the most beautiful things. Told the most beautiful stories. Wise men turned to her for advice, like her father, and strong men followed her words in war, like her biggest brother. She listened because the Weaver was her Mam, and Mam loved her children very much, even at her loom.

“Here, Caoimhe.” Her Máthair took her little fingers and pressed them against a silver line dancing between colorful strings. A moonbeam, or a wave, alive and whispering a tale in a voice like her own. She bit her lip, smiling as she traced it, oh-so-careful not to snag the delicate pattern with her broken nails – she played hard, and her brothers played harder.

“This is your thread, a stór. Do you like it?”

“Yes, Máthair.”

But as she spoke, the thread wobbled under her touch, turning wet. An ocean seeped free, pouring from the line like a waterfall, and she took a quick step back, gasping in her high, childish voice as the water pooled quick and cold around her ankles.

The rest of the woven threads burst into flame, and the whole piece peeled off the loom, sinking with churning bubbles as the water rose.

“Mam?”

She looked, but her Máthair, her Mam, had disappeared, and when she turned back to the loom, it had gone, too, replaced with a windshield webbed in cracks.

Trapped. Sinking.

Bubbles rose like a wall, screaming in a discordant choir as they climbed towards the surface, more ghosts than air.

She whined, tugging on her seatbelt as her hands became a woman’s again, and she called for help.

“Deartháireacha!”

Salt water sloshed past her open lips, and she choked, pleading.

“Cabhair liom.”

No one heard, and the sea rushed in, eager to claim its forfeit. It would serve her heart to sharks and sea lice, to the blind things in the deep, deep dark that didn’t know of the sun, or the moon, or the stars. Her family would never find her bones, and her soul would be lost to those sunless places, crushed and alone forever.

The water closed over her. The world turned blue.

And she opened her eyes.

The fish girl sat beside her, a transparent mask over her nose and mouth like the jellyfish she’d dreamed of. Once she realized Caoimhe was awake, the kid snatched her hand from where it rested in a … hammock?

Bouncing on her feet, holding Caoimhe’s hand in both of hers, she chanted, “Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!”

Which was interesting because she knew for a fucking fact the girl didn’t speak a lick of English before the accident. She’d tried entertaining her when they were trapped, and she tried explaining her plan when they fled, but no one could fake the blank, confused expression she earned for her efforts.

How long had she been asleep? Or was she still unconscious? Was this the figure her subconscious had chosen to guide her towards the afterlife?

Half convinced she was still dreaming, she croaked a raspy, “Hello,” of her own, and the flinching pain finally convinced her she’d really, truly woken.

In a hammock.

With the fish girl.

Who suddenly spoke English.

The fuck?

Nothing else in the space made any more sense. It looked like a cave, full of stalactites and stalagmites, some of which looked like they’d grown more or less naturally into screens. Or bars.

Another cage?

Just as her breath caught on a hiccup of fear, figures moved on the other side of the apparent bars and opened a door. They looked like the kid. Blue-skinned, wearing the gelatinous face mask and similar clothes. Two women and a man. She thought she recognized the wrinkled skin on the elder woman’s hands, and when she settled one of those hands on Caoimhe’s forehead, she was sure of it.

The woman smiled, pleased by whatever she’d found. When her hand dropped, Caoimhe checked her head herself, like she’d grown letters there she could read with her fingertips.

Had she developed a fever maybe…?

While her hand was by her head, she checked to see if her hair still covered her ears. It did. Thank Danu. She lowered her arm back to her side before anyone noticed.

The woman – the kid’s grandmother? – addressed the other two adults, and a drop of relief soothed their tight expressions. Though hardly relaxed, the good news lifted at least one of their many concerns, and they hurried to move forward.

“It’s good you’re awake.” The younger woman brought a stool beside the hammock, and the child rested her head against the woman’s knee as she sat. “We did not know if your fever would break.”

“Thank you,” Caoimhe said in her rough voice. Had she screamed a lot in her sleep, or was it a consequence of drowning? “For pulling me out of the water.”

Very carefully, she sat up, mindful of the pull in her side where the bullet hit. Something soft and a little slick rubbed over her skin, wrapped tight to her wound, but she couldn’t bring herself to look. Not yet. She didn’t want to see the damage. She didn’t want to see some strange thing she didn’t understand holding her together. Not yet.  

The light, she realized, came from overhead. Glowworms. They cast an eternal twilight through the space, and she swallowed reflexively, wondering what in the fuck she’d gotten herself into.

“Where…” She looked back to the woman, probably the child’s mother. “Where are we?”

Inclusive language. Non-accusatory. No need to ruffle any feathers. Great damn need to orient herself, though.

Stiffening even as she tried to keep her face placid, the woman shook her head softly, saying, “I will do my best to answer your questions, but our king must speak with you first.”

Her turn to stiffen. Her breathing kicked up a notch, and she wrestled against the urge to hyperventilate.

The time had come to talk of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot.

She’d never heard of these people. They dressed in a fashion she might call Mayan, but she’d never heard of blue folk who breathed water, and she was getting the terrible, pressured sensation of being underwater. Like the ceiling would crack and the entire ocean would drop on her head at any second.

The little girl, still holding her hand, must’ve noticed her pulse jump, and she asked something in her parents’ language. The woman put a reassuring hand on her wrist, just above her daughter’s double grip.

“You saved our child. Our king will explain. Then we will talk.”

Caoimhe floundered, wincing as she strained to rise. “Can I – can I get up for this?”

The woman had eyes like Caoimhe’s oldest brother. A warrior’s eyes, looking within while analyzing without. She listened to the reason behind the question, the request for assistance, the desire to face their king out of bed, with a little more dignity and control than she’d find in the hammock.

Nodding, she rose from the stool and supported Caoimhe’s elbow. “Here.”

The woman helped her up, assuring she wouldn’t fall as she used her legs for the first time in…? As she gained her balance and cautiously assumed the seat with the little girl mirroring her mother’s support with much less efficacy under her other arm, the old woman Caoimhe assumed was the grandmother swooped a blanket over her shoulders, murmuring something under her breath.

Smirking, the mother said, “My mother says you look cold.”

Was she? She looked down and found gooseflesh creeping down her arms. Sometime between her rescue and recovery, they’d changed her into a simple white dress like the women of the family wore. Now that she mentioned it, she could definitely feel the damp air of the cave leeching heat from her skin. She’d been too uncomfortable to notice much besides the thrumming ache in her side and the fear stewing in the back of her thoughts.

“Thank you.”

The woman nodded again, but Caoimhe had a point to make. If things went poorly with their king, as the mother’s posture suggested it might, she wanted to make sure they knew she appreciated what they’d already done for her. “Really. Thank you. All of you.”

Regret flashed through the mother’s expression, followed by a wave of steely determination. She set her hands on Caoimhe’s shoulders, demanding her focus before she spoke. “We will speak again soon.”

Already feeling the weight of her own body, worn out by the effort of sitting up, she conserved her strength. She took her cue from the woman, nodding her agreement.

The woman straightened, her hands slipping away, and Caoimhe pulled the blanket tighter around her neck. Physical proof she wasn’t alone, that someone in this place wished her well. It immediately became the first comfort blanket she’d indulged in since she was six. Maybe, like that one, woven through with her mother’s magic, it would keep her safe.

The family left, and she summoned an anemic smile for the little girl before her parents towed her around the corner and out of sight. They closed the door as they went, and she sat in the cell, shivering and focusing on her breaths.

In and out.

Still alive.

In and out.

Lost.

Her breath caught. Fell out of rhythm.

Out and in.

At a stranger’s mercy.

Her half-drowned thoughts from the sinking car echoed in the present. She didn’t want to die. Not alone. Not so far from her family, her only real home. She wanted Eóghan to cluck over the bullet wound and put her together while Aodhfin called her twenty kinds of stupid. She even craved Dara’s disappointed glower, the weight of his brows dipping low with responsibility as he tried to express the gravity of the situation. Explaining everything she might’ve lost, what that would mean for the ones she loved.

And now she’d gone and lost herself, and once again she sent up silent prayers full of promises she knew she couldn’t keep.

Danu, Mother, let me go home and I’ll never wander again. I will be calm and still and –  

The door opened.

Her heavy thoughts had pulled her eyes to the floor, and she jerked to attention, startled to find a man watching her from the entrance to the cell.

His golden skin lacked the blue tint the kid and her family had out of the water. His ears narrowed to sharp points, and when he continued into the space, she saw the wings on his ankles.

Even without the heavy ornamentation he wore, he was every inch a king. Tall. Proud. So confident in his control of the situation he took a second stool and sat across from her.

No need to tower. To posture.

She was no threat, and he wanted her to know.

“What is your name?”

An inquisition, then. Not a friendly chat. Not yet at least. His measured tone left no room for anything but a truthful answer.

Fortunately, she had no good reason to withhold her name. The mother had given her the impression everything would be alright if she cooperated. She could give this much.

“Caoimhe.”

His chin angled up, and though he didn’t say it out loud, she could see him repeating her name in his head.

“My people call me K’uk’ulkan.”

A name she’d seen on paper. Never heard aloud. She remembered finding it in old books of mythology Dara collected. He always said their people were proof there was more to legend than empty stories. The name belonged to a fierce entity, something to be worshipped. More than a king, then.

The man named for a god observed her, gave her a moment to process what she clearly knew. Then he let the other name fall.

“My enemies call me Namor.”

The sharp dichotomy disturbed her, and she recalled the concern in the mother’s eyes. A diplomatic policy dividing the world into those he was sworn to protect and those he had reason to kill did not leave much room for negotiation. It also explained why she’d never heard of his people beyond the faintest trace of myth.

She tried not to pull away. Tried not to let her shoulders bow in an attempt to look smaller. She was what she was. She couldn’t change for this king. She shouldn’t give him the impression she could be forced to.

“And anyone else?”

His eyebrows lifted, and his eyes pierced hers. A note of challenge. “There is no one else.”

“Where does that leave me?” She often played word games with her brothers. It was fun to twist the truth to dance over a lie, to angle shadow and light in new ways across old ideas. But this wasn’t a game, and she needed answers. In all her years of play, she’d learned the bluntest tools sometimes made the best weapons. “Last I checked, I don’t turn blue.”

His tone didn’t change – this was still very much a matter of life and death – but cool amusement glittered in his eyes. “Where do you think that leaves you, surface dweller?”

She shifted, not quite squirming, keeping her eye on him. Holding still never came naturally to her, and now it was absolutely draining. He definitely noticed, and she hated it. “I’m not dead yet. Someone’s gone to great lengths to keep me that way.”

He flashed a grin, and she found he had a charming smile. Ridiculously charming, considering the circumstances. His confidence here was not at all a show. The consequences of this interaction would not touch him long, and he could afford to treat her blithely.

“Not such great lengths, but yes. Atziri wouldn’t leave your side, and her mother is one of my warriors. She argued it was a matter of honor, so I pulled you from the wreck, and her family has cared for you.”

He’d given her more information than the child’s family seemed comfortable giving. That was something. “The kid’s name is Atziri?”

A drop of warmth swam through the amusement in his eyes. Either he approved of the question, or the girl had carved out a soft spot in her king’s heart.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad she’s alright.”

It wasn’t a ploy. She was genuinely glad. Just as she would’ve been genuinely pissed if anything happened to the girl after she lost consciousness. Dying a hero and dying an idiot rode the same thread of fate.

The king huffed, white teeth gleaming as he only half-repressed his laugh. “She is much… hardier than you.”

Rude.

But probably true.

“Of course, I couldn’t help noticing you’re no ordinary surface dweller.”

Two long fingers reached out towards her face, and – bemused – she let them. She didn’t understand what he wanted, what he was doing. She hadn’t hurt her face as far as she knew, and her puzzled frown grew as the fingers passed her cheek –

And smoothed back her hair to touch the delicate point of her ear.

Fight or flight instincts carried her out of the conversation and a few steps across the cell before his hand could lower – or touch her again.

Her back met the wall as her stool clattered to the floor. Not nearly far enough. The damn stone felt maliciously designed, like the glass of the laboratory cell. And of course it was. There were bars, weren’t there? This was a prison.

Her heart kicked in her chest, the extra oxygen and adrenaline flooding her system as muscles tensed for a fight and her vision narrowed to the immediate threat.

He hadn’t moved. Hand still suspended, he drank in her reaction, studying her in a new light with a determined focus that swallowed the scraps of playful warmth he’d shown before. She told him things. With her wild eyes. Her desperate breaths. Her swift and sudden fear at being noticed. At being found out.

Clearly, he knew the ways of hidden things. He followed a very different path to secrecy, but one of his own ended up in the same hands that took Caoimhe, so even if they followed different routes, they forded the same rivers. They faced the same obstacles. The same consequences greeted their mistakes, and this – proving whatever suspicions he already had – must be another misstep.

She’d told him too much, and she rushed to banish her instinctive reaction, to distract from the cool calculations turning in the man’s eyes.

“Do you always touch women without asking permission?”

It was like slamming a door in his face. Don’t look here. Don’t wander in. Recognize you’ve strayed where you are not welcome and take a step back for both our sakes.

And, to her great surprise, he did.

The hand fell so he could rest an elbow on his knee, head tilting a fraction. Mischief twinkled through the curiosity in his eyes. No one with his kind of power should be able to summon such boyish charm. It was damn dangerous.

“May I touch you?” He smiled. A beautiful man used to getting his way.

“No. You may not.” She drew herself up. A determined prisoner prepared to bite anyone who dared breach her consent.

She wasn’t flirting. He might be.

Still grinning, like her diversion was a game he enjoyed, he lifted his hands to his shoulders, palms out, before dropping them to his knees.

She tried to think of a distraction from the distraction. This was not a very safe topic for an injured woman kept behind bars to banter over with a king. When she drew boundaries, only his honor and tastes prevented him from stepping across.

“Atziri greeted me in English when I woke up.”

His grin slowly closed, though a curl lingered at the corner of his mouth. “I ordered her mother to start teaching her. You are her responsibility now, and she must acknowledge that burden.”

Learning one of the least sensical and most unnecessarily complicated languages on the planet wasn’t a short-term investment. He called her a burden. She imagined she could feel the weight of seatbelt across her lap and chest again, anchoring her to the bottom of the sea.

Maybe she didn’t escape her death. This didn’t sound like rescue.

As she came to that realization, he read it in her face.

Once again, she shared too much, and he nodded as her expression fell towards despair.

“There was a choice to make.” His eyebrows lifted, just a little, opening his expression so she could read him in turn. Earnestness. It had been no easy decision, and her situation was urgent. Hadn’t she felt herself slipping towards the world of ghosts?

He continued, lancing the wound so as not to draw out her suffering.

“We could not leave you on the shore. You would be found again, and besides, you’d already seen Atziri.” 

She closed her eyes, wondering how she could still breathe as the gravity of his words gathered like rocks in her stomach.

Fine. Danu heard her. She didn’t die alone. But she’d never be with her brothers again. Judging by the cave and the people who needed water to breathe, she’d probably never see the stars again either.

Fucking fuck. This couldn’t be right. It wasn’t what she meant. Not at all. At the gates of death, she wanted her family. She wanted the sun.

This was all wrong.

Her knees buckled. Brought low by physical weakness and the king’s blow to her hope, she sank down the wall.

“You will stay here, the permanent guest of Atziri’s family. They will return the life they owe you, and you will keep Talokan’s secrets.”

Resolute. As hard as the polished jade in his ears. The decision had already been made, and her only choice was whether to let her tears fall now – in front of him – or later – alone. Opening her eyes took courage. And it took skill to pull the water back, to flutter her lashes just so, banishing the drops before they fell.

He approached on his winged feet as she pulled herself together, taking a knee just far enough back to not let her keep her personal space. Apparently he’d learned after touching her ear. He didn’t want to set her off, an unnecessary kindness that looked pallid in the shade of the entire life he’d just taken away. There was compassion in his gaze, but not enough to save her.

“I can always give you a quick death.”

An offer of mercy, but the finality of her only available alternative sent chills flooding down her spine. Under her blanket, she shuddered.

He picked up each hint to her thoughts, collecting the pieces of herself she so carelessly dropped, and grew a new smile.

“Though, after all the time and effort that my people have invested in your recovery, that would be a terrible waste.”

[cb-writes-stuff]

I think my characters are too nice, patient, and forgiving. What if they were mean? What if they ran out of patience? What if they were annoyed with each other?

Hehehe… And the best part…

What if they then had to have dinner together?

Metacommentary below the cut because it wouldn’t fit in the tags.

A good novel has a back and forth, specifically between positive and negative moments. The idea is that if a scene starts positive, it should end negative, and vice versa. This keeps things from feeling stale or stagnating. But if the characters are always cordial and forgiving, then there’s no conflict to be resolved, and there’s no negative. That’s why utopian books and maybe some slice-of-life stuff is boring: nothing bad happens. I don’t like making my characters hurt each other, even in the tiniest of ways, but it makes the scenes interesting to read and interesting to write.

On the other hand, if the characters are always moody and abrasive, then the conflicts are never resolved, and theres no negative. So for the same reason as utopian literature and poorly written slice-of-lifes, teenage-angsty stories, dystopias, and anything grimdark are so unattractive: nothing good happens. (Again, only when it’s poorly written. There are examples of these things done well.) And if the world itself is unforgiving, then there’s never any hope.

What’s considered “positive” and “negative” is entirely dependent on context. Typically, positives are stronger in comparison to negatives; that is, it takes less positive to balance (or outweigh) negative. On a bright, sunny day with not a cloud in the sky, what’s one little raindrop? But when you’ve hit rock bottom, given up with nothing left to lose, that one ray of light can mean everything.

Let’s say a character just got a big promotion at work—that’s a positive. Okay, so we need to balance it out with a negative. So, he goes to the gas station, buys a lottery ticket, and doesn’t win. Doesn’t that just suck? No, it doesn’t suck. He can very easily move on from it. A better negative would be his car getting rear-ended while the boss was shaking his hand. Yes, he’s probably not worried financially, but he has to deal with his insurance company, find the person who rear-ended him, and he has to do something with the car. That’s not a problem he can just walk away from.

Let’s consider the opposite. A character is sent to prison for a horrible crime she didn’t commit. She couldn’t afford a good lawyer, the case was stacked against her. And just when she was about to start her new job. The interview went so well and everything. (Eh? See? Back and forth.) So a few days after the hearing, she’s sitting in her cell when the guard comes around—“Hey, turns out you were found innocent on that petty theft, so that’s a few months off your 70 to life.”. That is a near-meaningless positive. It is not something significant to her, and barely changes the situation at all. Instead, a better positive would be she’s sitting in her cell, when the guard comes around—“Mail call.” The guard slips her a letter. She opens it, and covers her mouth in teary-eyed shock. It’s from her boyfriend, and it says, “I’ll wait for you.”

This back-and-forth idea applies to whole chapters, too. If the chapters starts out negative, it should end positive.

(And yeah, I made this post instead of writing. Oh well.)

[kiwiana-writes]

hi hello! i wanna ask how do you read fics? like do you just browse ao3 by date and check out the new fics or you have like a list of authors and you read their works or the fics they recommend?

Hey there, anon!

So in theory, I just browse AO3 by fandom tag, latest posted, English as the language tag (no fics in my second language 😭), and just... open up anything that looks even remotely interesting. I have very, very few dealbreaker tags, though I do have a couple where I'll often look for a vibe check from someone I trust before diving in, or tags where I'll wait until something is complete rather than tackling it as a WIP.

In practice... the last couple of months have really, really sucked, honestly. I've had a lot going on in my life, had a big world-rocking personal realisation, been struggling even more than usual with the old mental health... it's been a lot. So while I've still been reading a bunch, it's been more retreading old favourites (in this fandom and in prior ones) rather than keeping up with the new stuff. Almost everything I've read in the last couple of months that's been a first-time read and NOT going back to something I've read before has been fics and/or authors I was already subscribed to. (And even some of those I'm behind on—I'm an inbox zero motherfucker and my fandom inbox is Decidedly Not At Zero right now.) And now I'm in that weird ADHD headspace of decision paralysis where I either need to try to catch up, or just give up on the last couple of months and hope the highlights find their way to me via rec lists or similar and start again... but until I make that decision I can't quite bring myself to open up the tag and so I'm just making the problem worse. Brains, eh?

[gillianthecat]

I have Not been doing what I should have been doing this week, which is Not Great. BUT. I have been feeling the urge to watch BL again, so I been flittering around streaming services and binging some and dropping others. Here's the list of the 18, in the order I watched them, with brief thoughts on each. My rating (out of 10) are in [blue]. Feel free to ask me to say more about any of them!

Pit Babe (2 eps) [7]

Fun, enjoyed the tropiness of it, intrigued by Jeff/Alan, whatever secrets Charlie and Jeff are keeping, and that drifting competition which was hella sexy. I like my omegaverse fics "non traditional" so i appreciated that the first BL out there was alpha/alpha. I wasn't engaged enough to keep going, but would like eventually to pick it up again. One of the few shows I'm not filtering the tag for, so I'm enjoying other people's reactions and gifs.

My Personal Weatherman (finished) [8]

I wanted to love it more than I did, many aspects were wonderful, but the leads never felt like real characters to me, just seme/uke tropes fulfilling their roles. Actors very pretty though. I have a bunch of notes I may finish and post eventually.

Laws of Attraction (finished) [9]

10% of it was terrible, 10% was completely nonsensical (instagram live-ing your date while on the lam? really??), 10% was mediocre, 50% was good, and 20% was sublime. Film was phenomenal as the complicated lawyer with his thousands of smiles, and I now have a crush on him. I started watching a het lakorn for him afterwards (Lucky Star, free on Viki, very soap opera, he and his costar are great). I loved grandma and the batshit ex. I've already forgotten parts of the plot. Wish it could have been higher heat, the restrictions kinda fucked with Charn and Tinn's chemistry in the second half, after they got together, but Film made it work with his coy blushing maiden routine. And their chemistry pre-dating was fire. Second leads were cute and I do love me a pining bodyguard, but sadly the actors were kinda eh.

I Became the Main Role of a BL (1 ep) [9]

I am very excited about this, doing so many things well, balancing slapstick and humanity, all the little details are great. I like how the "real world" is still tropey and absurd but also noticibku more grounded than the "drama" world. I'm invested in the managers' stories. I have hopes for its sexiness, given how Aoyagi was touching Akufuji's arm in their rehearsal. Love love love Akufuji stanning.

Double Mints (finished) [5]

um. I didn't hate it. I didn't like it exactly, but there were some poignant moments. My first actually dark BL (I know Pornographer is classified as dark, but it didn't feel that way to me). Possibly there's some profundity in it, but it didn't grab me enough that I want to spend the time thinking about it. Also many plot things that didn't make sense to me. Perhaps just translation issues? Unlike the next on my list, this wasn't porn, it was a violent yakuza story. Not actually very explicit given that it's supposed to be high heat, with the significant exception of a rape scene.

The Shortest Distance is Round (Noir) (finished) [5]

I mean this is literally softcore porn with a weird dark plot around it. I think most of the actors are actual porn actors; I know the lead is. I could have thoughts on the story, but I feel like I'd need to know more about Japanese cinema to say anything meaningful. Just saying, the sexual harassment at the beginning is the tamest bit. Also a hilarious misdirect with the dead fish sleep kiss (at least for me who was going in blind). Some of the sex was hilarious (goat boy!) some of it was creepy and rapey, and some was genuinely hot.

Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss (3.5 eps) [7.5]

Fun and fluffy, like the premise, the seme character has charm, but soon lost interest in that level of slapstick and tropiness. May eventually finish.

Love Stage Japan 2018 (half an ep or so) [6]

Liked it more than the Thai version, which I saw a few episodes of. The set up makes more sense. Soon lost interest in that slapstick style. Wouldn't avoid it, but no current urge to return.

Utsukushii Kare 2 (My Beautiful Man 2) (finished) [9]

I love them so much! As the middle section, it didn't work as well on its own as season one (a hothouse masterpiece) or the movie (their blossoming), but it was an important bridge in their journey.

Utsukushii Kare Eternal (My Beautiful Man Eternal) (finished) [10]

So amazing. I wasn't sure that they could make a good ending of this story but they knocked it out of the park. Managed the tricky balancing act of having Hira and Koyoi grow up and learn to have a healthy relationship while still remaining their kinky weird selves. Echoed season one in so many beautiful and meaningful ways. I may eventually write more about it.

Long Time No See (movie) (finished) [7]

I didn't recognize the title so o started it without knowing anything about genre or plot. I wanted to like this much more than I did. Theoretically I am into all the elements. But somehow it didn't work for me. It felt hollow, or rather like the outline of a movie rather than the movie itself. Nothing really felt real to me. Perhaps just my mood, perhaps because I didn't recognize the name and so went in to it completely lost and confused. And the sex scenes all felt a little off, a little fake to me. Like the actors were kinda uncomfortable with it. It was very low budget for its concept, and I think needed to either be full kdrama length (maybe 8 full episodes) of get somehow even artier about it to be an atmospheric film. Which it should have been, and all indicators pointed to it, but somehow wasn't. I think I needed to know the characters better to care about. Which may or may not have required learning more about them; there are characters I've felt deeply that I knew very little about, but somehow not with these two. Also I couldn't get the sister's deal. It felt like she was hinting she knew the assassin secrets? But also not. Anyways, the leads were very pretty. And the shot of them stumbling out of the final fight was moving. I may write more later.

Dom (a Strongberry short) (dnf) [4]

Only 13 minutes long and I couldn't finish it, even with 1.5x speed in parts. Experimental little short about anthropomorphized condom boxes, and there's some sort of human plot about a virgin and his cheating boyfriend that I lost track of. It's not bad, just not what I was in the mood for.

Bake Me Please (like 10 minutes of ep 1) [5.5]

When I was talking about not being into cooking themed shows this is the kind of show I mean. It already had a bunch of tropes that are not for me, particularly random normal people treated like celebrities, and people on tumblr seem frustrated with it so it didn't feel worth pursuing.

Ossan's Love (2018 Japan) (2 of 7 eps) [8]

Seems very well constructed to be exactly what they wanted it to be. My enjoyment of that sort of slapstick and yelling style show depend on my mood, and I lost interest, but want to return eventually because it's a foundational show.

Love Mate (less than 1 ep) [7]

Some appealing elements, but got annoyed at the employee's negging and pushiness. I guess I'm too particular about realism, but in what company would it be acceptable to turn a meeting about their product into a psychoanalytical critique of why your boss can't love. Also I es confused by the bosses dating strategy. He just regularly meets up with men 1 time for awkward meals that he seems to hate and then doesn't even have sex with them? Or were we supposed to infer the sex was just censored out? Not the biggest deals but both together indicated that this show was going to play loose with logic in a way that would irritate me. And the seme was being a pushy ass.

Naked Dining (Zenra Meshi) (finished) [8.5]

Loved it overall, though had flaws. Loveblogged it so many thoughts in the tags.

My Ride (4 out of 10 eps) [7]

See today's liveblogging for my thoughts. I like many aspects, but lost interest after four eps. Didn't catch me up enough to want to binge it. I think I'm in an actor centric mode, and unfortunately none of the actors are that good in it.

Every Moment That I Think of You (finished) [8.5]

Randomly found on Gaga, 2 very short episodes from China 2021. Very appealing leads, censored, high school romance/intense friendship, partially through the pandemic. Fit a year's worth of story into 28 minutes. Surprisingly solid, though made me want to see the full length uncensored version of their love story, same actors. Ending confused me. Subtitles of voiceover implied that was their last night together but didn't say what happened, but nothing and was shown. Perhaps just a bad translation? Very low budget (sound mixing was amateur) but did a lot with what they had. Chaotic adolescent boy camera work and editing style, always moving, which fit story very well. Recommend if ok with censored stories.

[utilitycaster]

I genuinely found Laudna’s whole “I’m with you no matter what you choose” deeply unsettling and not romantic or cute at *all*. I don’t care how much you love the other person, the appropriate response to “maybe the death cult that killed you has a point” is not “let’s cuddle”, it’s a major reality check and advocating for yourself and your needs. And the fact that Laudna either didn’t find it necessary to do that or wasn’t comfortable doing that speaks volumes.

I mean same; I'm happy to take more questions but I think I've said most of what I can reasonably say here, but yeah. I mean, I distinctly remember, the first week of Campaign 3 - when I was not shipping anything - unfollowing a few people I'd followed for C2 because they were with apparently no sense of reality or irony saying "omg so soft uwu codependent" as if that were a positive trait. And like, you can go back through my archives and essentially for the first six months of the campaign I was like "eh, I don't see anything real with this ship yet, but it does have potential" and my enjoyment of the gnarlrock fight was in fact because I was like oh finally, maybe Imogen and Laudna will have a meaningful conversation! Like, I genuinely thought that would be the point where I started actively shipping it. And then it fizzled out, and now they just keep silently permitting their ever-increasing problems with each other, and like, could you guys actually say anything to each other that isn't just an empty repetition of "I love you, I'm here for you". It all feels so rote and automatic, down to the "I get her a glass of water"; like, it's not the routine of a loving couple, it's two people going through stale patterns because they'd rather be miserable together than risk being alone.

I guess the last thing I'll say here, and then like...feel free to send me stuff but if it's not a question, I may read it and appreciate it but delete it, is that while (understandably) many people who ship this and find it deeply romantic do not follow me and probably have me blocked, a handful do. I had a tag on one post I reblogged about Ashton and Laudna that was like "well obviously I love imodna because imodna but this was a good conversation!" and like...that's it, isn't it? It's Imodna because Imodna. It's a tautology. It just feels so obligatory, like you're supposed to like this because...[footage not found], and if you say "uh...why though, Laudna isn't even comfortable enough to say hey don't get buddy-buddy with the cult that murders everyone, including me," you're met with blank stares. Like, again, I've been cold on it since the gnarlrock fight went nowhere, and more interested in both Imogen and Laudna's relationships, platonic or potentially romantic, with basically everyone else in the party, since then as well; but this episode was the point where I was like "literally, can we discuss that this emperor has no clothes." And again like. The emperor still could put on clothes at some point, but hasn't happened yet.

[prototypelq]

This is by no means hate, but putting that one post in the BG3 tag was an interesting choice. The tag is predominantly occupied by fans of the game and kinda comes off as a bit needlessly antagonistic? I just don't want people to be hurt and I also don't want you to end up receiving hate. Again sorry if my tone doesn't come through very well in this, this is just meant as a friendly heads up type thing. Hope you have a good day!

Hi, thanks for the message. No worries, your post doesn't come off as anything but a cautious message for me. And it's warranted.

Eh, I don't care about upsetting some toxic fans, they will be upset no matter what you do, and I think this is an issue worth highlighting. Obviously, a big fandom attracts...I can't phrase this any better - a bad crowd. And, well, while I am outside the fandom I can kind of not care about them most of the time, but the one comment about BG3 deserving the Best Narrative over Alan Wake 2 had me a bit foaming myself xD

I value arguemented opinions of all kinds, but fans like those are usually just rabid. Mostly for Astarion. Which, yeah, from what I've seen he had the most of the writer's an animators attention, so it's valid he is a fan-fave, however it does come at an expense of Almost Every Other Companion and you can't really remove or ignore that context now, can you. Thing is, again, not really my problem at the moment.

What is my problem is when the hype goes so out of hand it starts spreading out of it's fandom containment. If I see a person claiming 'BG3 is the best game ever', or 'RDR2 is the best game ever' or 'Witcher 3 is the best game ever' or any other popular title, I can and will confidently say in your face - No. It might be the best game TO YOU, and that's great! Everyone should have a favourite title!

But no game is perfect, so having a favourite doesn't mean you can barge everywhere screaming 'my game is so superior why didn't it get every single award i'll write death threats on twitter about it'. And those kinds of rabid fans usually are the type to do just that.

I would gladly listen to anyone discuss/write an essay about their favourite game, and it can absolutely be any of the titles I mentioned above, they are popular for a Reason, after all. At least, in these cases they are popular for a reason, that's not applicable to everything in my experience. But, when it comes to critics awards things are different, that should be a time for a more critical view. Which, to be fair, is extremely freaking hard to do, as being objective about anything is impossible, and being 'objective' about thing you're Emotional about is impossible by definition. That's why the end of the year awards are such a conflicting time and topic to discuss. Valuable critics opinion is also absolutely NOT to be expected from TGA as it's a hype train for the hype train and ads sake, but it's also a cool fun show, and we can enjoy what we get there.

tldr Alan Wake 2 absolutely deserved that Best Narrative Award, BG3 fans I am open to discussion about this. oh, and all rabid fangirls get immediately blocked, of course, I don't need you here or anywhere on the internet at all.

Anon, again, thanks for the warning, but I'll be fine) I also hope my reply doesn't come off as antagonistic to you in return. Have a great day yourself!

[residentdormouse]

20 Questions for Writers

Thank you for the tag, @thecharmedburrowspn-files - your timing is insane. I just started writing again after months of inactivity. (Only 500 words, but shhhh. Progress 😅) We'll see how long the motivation train lasts, but fingers crossed I can ride it for a while.

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 4 and one is tiny. Nothing to brag about here. Only started posting on AO3 in '21.

What is your total AO3 word count?

292,884

What fandoms do you write for?

It's really only The Stand. I have 517 words in the Stranger Things fandom with 'Even in Death', so it feels kind of cheap to include that. My newest work is original, so no fandoms at all. I have one that is tabled for now that goes into True Blood a bit, but I'm not sure if that's really going anywhere.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

'Something like a Spiral' got a whole whooping 17 kudos. That's my leader. Yup, we're good here.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Of course! I just wanna talk to people about my favorite blorbos, and if you're commenting, then you probably at least understand vaguely what I'm rambling about. Small fandom is small, and I welcome all interaction.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I would say the ending of 'Just Keep Diving Down' gets this, although I would call it more bittersweet. It's not the happy ending the characters would have wanted, but it's far from the worst. There is some massive angst (MCD) towards the end, so fair warning there, but death isn't necessarily the end.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

'Something Like a Spiral', I suppose. Can you really have a completely happy ending with this setting? But, I'd say it's the happiest of the options. It's hard for me to say 'Supply Run' because they're all one shots, and I really don't feel like there is an 'end' per se. It's more like outtakes in my mind. But some of them end on a good note.

Do you get hate on your fic?

Thankfully, people have kept all negative comments to themselves. Hopefully, there's not many out there.

Do you write smut?

Eh, if you can call it that. I'm not overly explicit, but there is sex. Enough that I feel the need to put '***' lemon warnings before and after like the fanfiction of old.

Do you write crossovers?

The 'True Blood' story I mentioned before is a cross with 'the Stand' and the world I created for 'Diving'. I just wanted Eric to have to deal with Flagg and vice versa. Who better to deal with their shit than their own doppelganger. Karma.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. Hopefully not. I'm in a small fandom though, and the only person writing with a focus on my preferred blorbo. Not sure anybody else would want it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, and I wouldn't even know where to begin on this. I would be up to try though! I've done short RPs before, I would assume it's somewhat similar?

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I do like the Mulder/Scully ship that was mentioned. I could go for Katniss/Peeta time. Buffy/Spike. There are a few. In Stand world, I'd never be able to split Stu/Fran, and I'll jump on board the Lloyd/Flagg train. (Although, I do love redemption, so I'd rather see a good 'Randall get your shit together' spin to it.)

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The True Blood crossover. It doesn't make much sense without reading my prior Stand stories, and honestly, I don't know if anybody even made it through the whole thing. Again, small fandom, I'm inserting OCs, only person writing with a focus on Glen. It's a very catered only to me story, and a long one at that. (101k for the first and 186k for the second.) So yeah, tacking on something to the end of that, eh, may just stay in my head as thoughts for funsies.

What are your writing strengths?

I have just about zero self confidence, so I'm not sure? I would really hope it's keeping the tone and voice and motivations of characters consistent. Obviously they'll change throughout the story; everybody is affected by what happens to them. Change is inevitable. But are their changes consistent to their character? I hope so. Character development was always my favorite part in building a story.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I have just about zero self confidence? I don't know if I get too convoluted with the story. If I force too much change to what I want to see. Am I clear with what I say? And there's always goddamn typos no matter how many times I proofread...

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Aside from simple phrases, I'll pass. I don't want to butcher somebody's language, and I'm definitely not proficient in any other language. Hell, I can barely get English right. Massive respect to anybody who can do this.

First fandom you wrote for?

I just started here recently, so the Stand is really it for me.

Favorite fic you've ever written?

They all have a soft spot in my heart (which, I mean, you're supposed to write for you, right?) Spiral was my first, and has a lot of scene that I go back to read, so I guess that? But it is very close to canon in a lot of scene and plot, so Diving is more original in the overall story, I suppose. And Supply Run is a short at straight canon compliant scene inserts. So they each have their arguments.

If you would want to join, no pressure tagging to: @imagine-you @mrsmungus @cxttlefishcxller @asirensrage @darknightfrombeyond and @fattybattysblog

And anybody else who wants to join! OPEN TAG!

[golbrocklovely]

i think its hilarious people are calling m cb’s girlfriend when that horny mfer is still liking half naked insta models pics as of a day or two ago. if he had a gf he wouldn’t (i hope) disrespected her like that. whereas i think sg and k are probably together or at least in the early stages bc they definitely seem cutesy together whereas all pics of cb and m (including nye) have ‘we’re just having fun’ vibes. also the way m is dressing and still posting on insta, she’s definitely not giving off ‘i have a bf’ vibes.

people just stiring drama (not u, ofc. ur the only snc blog i keep up with bc you have reasonable answers to this stuff) in the tag calling both girls the ‘girlfriends’ lol

plus as a personal observation as someone who’s only known who snc are since october, cb doesnt strike me as someone who will settle down before 30 (if he ever wants to). hes 27 now right? maybe in the coming years he might start wanting something solid but he strikes me as someone who isnt looking for that rn. idk im 29 this year and im sort of in the same boat. like only the last 6 months have i been thinking ok its probably time to find someone…

i mean, i would assume he'd not do that either, but i think it also depends on what m feels like. she might not care. also there are a lot of girls colby is just friends with, and he'll like their scantily clad pics so idk about it being an issue.

and as for what she wears, again, i don't think that matters. colby doesn't seem like the type to want his girl to fully cover up or whatever. and also, just bc you're in a relationship doesn't mean you have to dress conservatively. you still have the same body underneath, whether or not you show it off. and if she feels confident, who gives a fuck what colby thinks lol

but as i've stated before, idk how serious m and colby could be. they've only known each other since sam's bday. so they've only been together for a month and some change so… eh. if they want to be together forever, so be it. that's awesome. if not, it is what it is.

as for sam and k/la girl, yeah idk about them either. they've seemingly been together since septemberish. so, it could be serious and lead to something more committed. or it could just be a silly fling that lasts for a bit of time and then ends. but i hope they enjoy whatever time they do spend together.

colby has had almost exclusively flings since 2016 after he broke up with his only girlfriend (or he claims to be his only girlfriend). he has a lot that he needs to work on internally before he starts committing to anyone. he himself has said that basically. so i don't see him settling down anytime soon, but who knows. and same thing with sam. he just got out of a long relationship, so my first thought would not be to jump into another one. but he also has said he's a monogamous person and likes being in relationships. so… it's a bit up in the air for both of them. but i don't see them settling down any time soon.

and as for me, there's always been just a lot going on in my life so i've never really taken time to focus on my love life. or the couple times i have, it's been unrequited and heartache. however, i'm very happy i didn't date when i was younger bc i genuinely hated myself for a long time. and i just know i would have tolerated a lot more bc i didn't care about me and just didn't want to be alone. like i was borderline abused by dudes i wasn't even seeing back then. now, i love myself (for the most part lol) and have no issues being alone. and i also know what i want. and if a man, or woman, ever tried anything with me, i'll just leave lmao

i would like to get married in the future, but it definitely isn't gonna be this year or most likely the next sksk

[chiropteracupola]

tagged in '20 questions for fic writers' by the esteemed @verecunda — thank you very much!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

62.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

102,035.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

at the moment, I think Sharpe, Flight of the Heron, and Kidnapped are getting most of my attention? altho' there are of course quite a few others.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you'd be my best friend, you'd be my lady (Hornblower)

sleep in it slowly (if you can) (Hornblower)

illuminating all, in time (Hornblower TV)

here in your arms is cured (Kidnapped)

as in a mirror dimly (The Mummy 1999)

...huh. that is not what I thought the top five were going to be. but then again, I think a lot of the work that I myself like better is both newer and more niche, so I guess that does make sense.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I typically respond to comments on fics I posted after April 2022, which is when I started replying to comments. not sure why that's my routine but either way it's what it is.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hm, a lot of breaking left to do, perhaps, being as it's just solidly Horatio Hornblower Is Sorrowful right from one end to the other. I'd lean toward this one rather than any of what I've written on the theme of being lost in undeath, even though there are quite a few more of those (and better written ones to boot!), since I tend to end those with something calm and a little restful even in decay.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think that's probably got to go to Shaking Off Our Shadows, which is basically two thousand words to the effect of 'what if these two fellows from a very grim book full of disease and death and ruin and general misery had a really nice beach epilogue wherein Everything Was Fine.'

8. Do you get hate on fics?

eh, I've gotten a few weird comments on one, mostly people voicing their hatred for one of the characters it's about. I personally think it's all very silly to come to the doorstep of a fellow who likes to write about romantic dissection and say that a kiss exchanged with mutual interest but without previous discussion is 'fucked'. methinks the problem lies not with me.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

...on occasion. not a great deal of it has actually made it into finished fic at present, mostly because I'm not very confident with specificity in those matters, and so it's more likely to be heavily metaphoricized (see above about the romantic dissection...)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

most of them are things that I'll draw about or merely ponder rather than writing, but a particularly silly one that I've actually gotten some words in on is Hornblower and Animorphs — look, if the Animorphs team is canonically at Trafalgar, I don't think I have a choice but to crack open a space to play with in the Age of Sail!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

as far as I know, no.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

a few of my RLS-based ones have been translated into Russian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

sort of! when it comes to actually both writing in the same document, no, but the larger expanse of Flintlock Fortress is done in close collaboration with @dxppercxdxver, and we're discussing a great deal even if we're actually writing on separate parts of the story.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I think when it comes to sheer years-long staying power, that badge has to go to Livesey/Trelawney.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I really would like to finish some of my earlier Treasure Island and Hornblower attempts, like the selkie au and the tattoo-sorcery story. I was definitely biting off more than I could chew plot-wise at the time and I'm more confident writing at length now, but I really don't have a ton of enthusiasm for the almost complete rewrites those stories would need to feel right to me, and so probably not.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I really do pride myself on my ability to Describe poetically and to spin an interesting sentence. enough of my fics are extended versions of things that I couldn't make work as a single drawing that that's become quite an important thing for me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

plots, and overall forming a story to have a solid structure and not just be a vaguely interesting selection of scenes... and I'm definitely not very good at imitating authorial voice, even when I'm trying very hard to do so.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

like most everything, it's good when done with intention — I really wish I'd gotten quite good enough at Latin to do what I'd been intending and write some Hornblower fic entirely in Latin.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I'd guess Stand Still Stay Silent, altho' I never ended up finishing any of the stories I began, and that was long before I had such a thing as an ao3 account (or even my current file-keeping system,) so where that all ended up I've got no clue at all.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

well, I think it's got to be the wormsfic... I'm just beyond proud of it even in its currently unfinished state and I think it's excellent proof of the fact that I've actually grown as a writer over the last few years.

and I shall tag... @dxppercxdxver, @cedarboots, @baronetcoins, @kigiom, @bishakespeares, and @lacomandante, if you're interested?

[icouldhyperfixatehim]

tag game 🫧

tagged by @cankersoregirl - a delight and shower of starshine on the dash

1. why did you choose your url?

i like wordplay and "i could fix him" happened to be the phrase du jour at the time. i have enough awareness to know i could not in fact fix him, as i am invariably worse 😊

2. any sideblogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

none for me - i've had and deleted/reupholstered previous iterations of blogs, but i've never done the sideblog thing

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

this blog particular? since 2019/2020 i believe. those previous iterations i mentioned? christened as tumblr native the year of our lord 2013

4. do you have a queue tag?

i'm almost me again she's almost queue. more wordplay - lyric from hozier's almost (sweet music)

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

i watched the untamed on rec from someone i was getting to know irl. from there i moved like wildfire discovering the queer stories i hadn't known asia had been producing This Whole Time, and i turned back to an old friend (oh tumblr you sweet, slutty siren) to further my education in a new obsession. isn't it always the way

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

eh well, that's erng, from umg, and she's the most important person in the world. and out the world.

7. why did you choose your header?

again, umg. that series is so rich in lovely trees, and that one in particular is marked with an arrow that points the way to homes away from home, friendships that last lifetimes, the parts of childhood you keep cradled in your hands like a fragile little moth... it's just a lovely shot to me.

8. what is your post with the most notes?

apparently it's this meme about gap sam being a beautiful girlfail 🤍

9. how many mutuals do you have?

no idea. room for more?

10. how many followers do you have?

a quick looky-loo provides the answer...1083. i imagine a great many just haven't realised they haven't unfollowed me yet lmao

11. how many people do you follow?

451. lotta talented people on here and i have a trigger finger. i could probably do w a pruning session tbh

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

some might argue that's the bulk of what i do

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

how often do i pick my nails? how often do i yawn? how often do i walk into a room in my house and forget wtf i went in there for?

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

no, i'm just a liwwtle guy ^-^

15. how do you feel about 'you need to reblog this' posts?

everyone feels urgency for different things at different times depending on their own perspective. we do our best with what we have in a given moment, and it's worth the effort to resist guilt that others try to hand you. they don't know you, you know you.

16. do you like tag games?

i do! more open ended ones like this - i struggle w superlatives

17. do you like ask games?

i've spoken before of my deep devotion to t? notification. i love her in all her guises

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

idk i'm shy of everyone at more or less equal levels lmao

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

in love w creation and critical analysis of narratives and passion so: select all//action:kith

20. tags?

here's your coupon to say i tagged you if you want to partake: 💌. otherwise @akkpipitphattana @jgyapologism @philologique @becomingabeing @charles-edwin @chickenstrangers @benkaaoi